


Eyes of Avada Green

by Tranquil_Tevine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Dumbledore, Different Realms, Dumbledore Bashing, Grey Harry, Humor, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, OC character deaths, Ron Weasley Bashing, Snape Bashing, Torture, Vampires, Violence, eventual slash, fae, game references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 80
Words: 160,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tranquil_Tevine/pseuds/Tranquil_Tevine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is only so much a person can take. For Harry, he's reached his breaking point. Who will survive the fallout?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harry's Had Enough

**Author's Note:**

> As of 03/01/18, I update this weekly, Tuesdays (UK)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was one thing after another and eventually, it all came to a head.

Harry Potter stood outside of Number 4, Privet Drive, with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. If someone were to pass by and gaze at him, they would surely run away from the pure malice in his expression and body alone.

 

 _‘I've done it.'_   thought Harry to himself gleefully. _’I've finally done it!’_

 

He gazed dispassionately at the bloodied remains of the Dursleys beneath his feet. Tossed carelessly at the side of the road lay a kitchen knife, crimson staining the steel.

 

“The Dursleys are gone. At last, the pathetic excuses for human beings that dare call themselves family are dead by my hands!” A bubble of laughter attempted to escape him but with some force, he managed to squash it down. It wasn't the time nor place for it yet.

 

He sighed to himself happily. Never again would he have to listen to Vernon constantly berate him for something he couldn't help. After all, magic was a part of him. It flowed freely through his veins and no matter how much he might wish it (though he didn't, of course) it wouldn't go away. Vernon’s hurtful words and punches that cut through him like a knife to butter, Petunia shrieking to cook the bacon and pull the weeds in the already immaculate garden, Dudley and his gang chasing him for another round of ‘Harry Hunting’, is no more. Finally, his cupboard. Throughout the years he had lived with the Dursleys, his cupboard was his only respite from the outside world. It taught him that no one would be there if he called, that darkness would be his only friend.

 

Through his hazy mind, Harry let a small smile slip onto his face. He would honestly miss his cupboard, but he had to get away from here. He knew that it wasn't normal for a 16-year-old to gain revenge in the form of brutally killing your own relatives, but since when was he ever normal?

 

In his first year of Hogwarts, there was the Philosopher’s stone. At the end of it all, it was left to 3 Gryffindor first years to go on a merry chase after the DADA teacher, Professor Quirrell, who was going to steal the stone. Who, as Harry found out later, had Voldemort hidden away under his turban. Dumbledore could have put a stop to it, being the Headmaster but no, wasn't it convenient that he was out attending to an emergency at the Ministry when Quirrell decided to make his move?

 

Second year. Harry mentally snorted to himself. First year wasn't even half of the badly directed soap opera that was his life. The Chamber Of Secrets fiasco, all starting off from when Harry heard a hissing sound coming from the wall, during his ‘detention’ with the arrogant and egotistical bastard that was Lockhart, the new DADA teacher. Following that were several petrifications, Harry speaking Parseltongue, causing the students to believe that he was the heir of Slytherin who opened the Chamber, up there with Malfoy. Then there was the Diary of Tom Riddle. That was the instigator of it all. From the Diary, which Harry found on the water soaked floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, he discovered Hagrid’s Acromantula, Aragog, in the forbidden forest with Ron. The legend says that a monster resides within the chamber itself. Aragog was not the monster.

 

The attacks became more frequent. After Hermione was petrified, Harry and Ron discovered what the monster in the Chamber was, thanks to Hermione and one single word on the ripped library book page. 'Pipes'. A Basilisk. From there, all that had happened started to make sense. After finding the Chamber and surprisingly Ginny Weasley, The memory of Tom Riddle (or Voldemort) set the Basilisk on Harry and by luck, using the sorting hat, Fawkes and Godric Gryffindor’s sword, Harry fought the Basilisk and triumphed. Using the fang that impaled Harry in the arm after he was healed by Fawkes, he stabbed the Diary. How did a trio of 2nd years find where the Chamber was and what the monster was yet the Headmaster couldn't? He must have known who opened the Chamber last time as he was there as a teacher! He could have helped Harry down in the Chamber. Surely, as Headmaster he could have found a way. No. It was left to a solitary 12-year-old to unravel another 'mystery'.

  
_'3rd 4th and 5th year. What is there to say? It's more of the same.'_   Harry sneered to himself. _‘It all comes back to Dumbledore and what the old fool didn't do to help me.'_

  
“Dumbledore with his many titles had the authority to help Sirius get a trial to prove him innocent, yet he didn't. He's supposedly one of the most powerful wizards living, the only wizard Voldemort fears, yet he didn’t help me when I had to fight off over 100 Dementors!” Harry snarled.

 

His eyes darkening with rage, he continued to list all that Dumbledore failed to do in order to help him over the years, his voice getting increasingly louder. Unknown to him, his eyes, previously darkened, glowed Avada Kedavra green. Filled with power and sheer emotion, his body became encased with a glowing, eerie light. "He failed to support me during the Triwizard Tournament, he failed to see that one of his members of staff was a Death Eater in disguise despite knowing him for years, he didn't stop Umbridge from causing her reign of terror over the students in 5th year, he distanced himself from me, he allowed Snape to rape my mind making my visions worse, he didn't tell me of the prophecy which could have saved Sirius and worst of all...”

 

By this point, Harry had worked himself up into such a fury that Mrs Figg's cats who were wandering around the premises fled from him, howling in terror. The light surrounding him by now was blinding, and his eyes were swirling pools of trapped emotion.

 

“HE LEFT ME WITH THE DURSLEYS!” Harry screamed out his anguish and sorrow, falling to his knees desperately. For all those years that he refused to grieve over the deaths of his parents, Cedric and Sirius, he let it all out. The light became solid. It exploded, causing the ground to shudder violently.

 

“I've had enough, fuck Dumbledore!” Harry whispered bitterly. With a simple wave of his hand, Harry summoned his personal belongings, including his wand. He’d been able to do wandless magic from a young age, due to the necessity of protecting himself. Naturally, no one knew. He had been suspicious of Dumbledore for a long time now, as his manipulations became less subtle as the years went on. He often felt Dumbledore scan his mind, so he had learned to keep his innermost guarded secrets locked away in his subconscious. If it wasn't for that unfortunate meeting with Malfoy on the train, he may well have agreed with the hat to put him in Slytherin. Was Dumbledore behind him choosing to go to Gryffindor too? Harry didn't know what to think anymore. As he was about to leave, who apparated in front of him? The old goat himself, along with The Order.

 

 _‘Bollocks! The last thing I want to do is deal with Dumbledore and his Order Of The Kentucky Fried Chicken! The ground shaking has to have been my magic, otherwise, why would they be here?’_   He thought.

 

Harry prepared himself. Now that he had grieved and gotten rid of his relatives, he could now think clearly. No doubt Dumbledore would be 'disappointed' in him. He had to stifle laughter at that thought. It was clear to Harry that Dumbledore believed that he was still under his thumb, but no more. No more hiding who he was, he would tell all of them. With some hope, Dumbledore might suffer from a heart attack due to shock. It was unlikely, but he could still wish.

 

Detachedly, Harry observed the reactions of Dumbledore and The Order to what could only be described as chaos. Due to Harry's emotive magic, the ground that trembled also held traces of cracks surfacing if any more trauma were to happen. Some cars had been caught in the middle of Harry's magic and as a result left them mangled beyond repair. Along with the silent, dark street and what remained of the Dursleys with Harry standing over them, he was certain it made quite a picture. Half of the people which Dumbledore decided to bring with him were either vomiting or had passed out from the sight. The only ones who weren't unconscious or otherwise distracted who seemed capable of speech were the old coot himself and Snape. “Go figure,” Harry muttered. “Snape's a Death Eater so I bet he's seen worse than this. Hell, he's probably killed a few muggles himself!”

 

“Harry my boy, what have you done?” Harry glanced at Dumbledore with disgust. He would like nothing more than to drop him off the nearest cliff. The annoying grandfatherly twinkle normally present was gone. He looked his age. “All 114 years.” Harry snickered to himself.

 

While Dumbledore was feeling his age, Snape gave that penetrating stare of his. Harry stared right back, unnerving the man. He looked away.

 

“What does it look like I've done, Dumbledore?” Harry's voice was bordering on sarcasm. “I've gotten rid of my so-called relatives, their screams were music to my ears.” His tone changed to that of happiness. He didn't bother to hide the smirk spreading across his face at the looks he received with that. It seems that comment brought Remus out of his shock-induced stupor.

 

“Harry, why did you do this, what would Sirius say?" Harry could see how broken and worn his surrogate godfather was. He felt sorry for Remus. He was one of the few people in Harry's life who didn't show open hostility to him, manipulate him or treat him as a child.

 

“Remus, I have nothing against you. You're one of the few people in my life that I respect and am fond of. I killed my relatives out of revenge, anger, call it what you will. They abused me. They starved me, kept me in a cupboard and made sure I was as unhappy as humanly possible. I couldn't live my life if they were alive. I want to live. I don't want to be the pawn used to end Voldemort controlled by a certain long-bearded old man. I'm going away from here, and I'm not coming back. As for Sirius, I don't know what he would say, as he's dead.”

 

Harry tried to keep his voice as non-threatening and gentle as possible, but it was hard. He was still furious with Dumbledore.

 

Remus flinched at the blunt statement from Harry, then gazed at him sadly. _'What trials must he have gone through for it all to come to this? I'm going to help him as much as I can. If the Dursley's weren't already disposed of I might have let_ _Moony out to play'._ He was still grieving over Sirius, however, he knew he had to help Harry, for himself and his deceased lover.

 

Remus smiled kindly. “Alright, Harry. I'll help as much as I can. I can't say I understand but I will try. Wherever you decide to go, will you keep in touch if only to tell me how you're doing?”

 

Harry smiled. A genuine smile this time. He wasn't as alone as he'd thought.

 

“Of course I will Remus. As I said, I have nothing against you. Only Mr Pimp and his resident pet Death Eater here.”

 

Harry couldn't stop grinning. Snape bristled as if insulted then proceeded to give Harry his infamous 'Death Glare'. Dumbledore looked angry.

 

 _'Hmm, the old man's annoyed, wonder what he's going to land himself in this time?'_   When Harry let out his magic earlier, he admitted to himself that it felt refreshing. Maybe he would use it again.

 

The gleam was back in his eye. Remus noticed this and chose not to comment. Snape did also. Years working as a spy would train you to spot these things. He also decided not to warn the Headmaster. He felt the old coot needed a wake-up call. Also, self-preservation called. He was a Slytherin, just going along with his house traits.

 

Dumbledore, in his arrogance and anger, failed to notice Harry's expression. If he had, he might have paid more attention to what he was saying.

 

“Harry, I'm afraid I can't allow you to leave.” Dumbledore attempted to look stern and sophisticated, but he looked more constipated than anything else. ”You have a duty to the wizarding world. You have to defeat Voldemort, according to the prophecy. Due to the Dursley's unfortunate demise,” Harry snorted loudly. Unfortunate? Seems Dumbledore overlooked the fact that HE was the one who made them kick the bucket. Harry tuned back into what Dumbles was rambling on about... ”I will be your magical guardian and see to your needs. You will receive training from Professor Snape and me in order to defeat Voldemort. No exceptions. You will come with us to headquarters.”

 

Dumbledore had made his point clear. He came out in the open before Harry could tell him straight. He was inwardly seething. _'How dare that old bastard dictate what goes on in my life as if I'm incapable of making my own choices? He has the audacity to control me in front of others?'_

Barely restraining himself from cursing Dumbledore so that his great-great-grandchildren would feel it, Harry made it clear he would be going nowhere with him.

 

“If you think that I will follow you blindly like a lamb to a kebab shop, you can think again! I'm through with you and your little Order, dictating my life. Your arrogance blinds you. You have your head so far up your arse you can't see what damage your view is causing!”

 

“Harry, what would your parents sa..” Dumbledore never got to finish his sentence as by now, Harry had snapped. He'd tried with all his might to reign in his temper, but to no avail. He'd gone too far this time.

 

Both Remus and Snape could physically feel the waves of anger rolling off Harry. They wisely decided to keep out of it.

 

 _'I hate Potter and his Gryffindor foolishness, but the Headmaster has hit a nerve better left alone.'_   He wasn't stupid. He could see what damage had been done to the boy during his Hogwarts years. Clearly, the pressure has become too much for him. He did think about scanning his thoughts, but looking at the boy again, decided not to unless he wanted a headache of huge proportions.

  
Dumbledore was on his own. He could see out of the corner of his eyes that Remus and Severus had decided to let him handle the situation. The light started encasing Harry once more, his eyes glowing the killing curse once again. For the first time in his life, Dumbledore was nervous. _'Where did all that power come from?'_   he was beginning to grow worried. Perhaps he had gone too far with that last remark. No sooner had he thought that when Harry unleashed fury in the form of his magic.

 

“DON'T YOU DARE BRING MY PARENTS INTO THIS!” he roared, the magic becoming more solid than the first time. It ironically took the form of a dragon, which looked suspiciously like the Hungarian Horntail which Harry was chased by during the 1st task in his 4th year.

 

If Dumbledore didn't have company and his reputation to keep intact, his purple robes patterned with moons and stars would have turned an unpleasant shade of brown. He was honestly scared. _'When I have Harry under my_ _control again, I will have to block the rest of his magic until the time is right. He's too dangerous to be around others.'_   He was brought back to reality sharp, as the Horntail took up a defensive Stance in front of Harry.

 

Harry was beyond all semblance of controlling his emotions. He had to get out of here. Quickly. Or he might do something unforgivable.

 

“HAVEN'T YOU RUINED MY LIFE ALREADY WITHOUT MENTIONING MY PARENTS?! I SHOULD HOPE THEY APPROVE OF MY DECISION TO ESCAPE FROM YOU, YOU SET ME UP TO DIE!”

 

The Horntail seemed to sense Harry's inner struggle. It would create a distraction so that he could leave.

 

With an almighty roar, the Horntail charged at Dumbledore and Snape full force. Since the Horntail was made of Harry's magic, it could sense who was causing him trouble, so Remus was left to watch on in bemusement as a now brown-robed Dumbledore was running for his life, Snape just ahead.

 

Thanks to his magic, Harry now saw an opportunity to leave. He looked on in glee as Dumbledore and Snape were chased my his magic in solid form, and openly laughed at the other Order members who were still in shock or unconscious.

 

“If they are the forces of light fighting Voldemort, the wizarding world is up shit creek without a paddle.” Harry murmured. With a little help from his wandless magic, he apparated to safety and seclusion. The booming “CRACK!” sound resulting from this scared Dumbledore so badly that he wasn't watching where he was going. He ran headfirst into a lamp post and knocked himself out. By this time, Snape was having problems of his own. It seemed that a stray dog enjoyed the smell of him and was attempting to have its way. Needless to say, Snape ran like hell was on his heels.

 

Remus, after getting over the whole confusion of the situation, was laughing his arse off. After he had laughed his fill, his thoughts returned to Harry. _'Wherever you are, I hope you're alright. If you decide not to come back to the wizarding world, then that's no problem. I'm sure Severus and Albus won't forget tonight and your departure anytime soon!'_

 

Holding back another round of laughter, Remus apparated to his cottage, leaving Dumbledore and the Order to their own devices.


	2. A Fresh Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he's out! Harry's got a new place to live, out of the meddling clutches of dear old Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't expect this. It's been years and I've been astonished by the feedback this has received. At first, I thought it was purely because of the fandom, but none of my other HP Fics has ever done as well as this one. It was my first! I'm so pleased so I thought I'd give a little something back to you guys, as thanks. I can't promise I'll update regularly because quite honestly I'm terrible at that, but we'll see how it goes.

Harry fell into an ungraceful heap on the ground, his belongings strewn around him. He could never get the hang of a graceful landing and he'd been practising that particular trick since his bout of accidental magic when he'd Apparated onto the school roof. He'd waited until Hogwarts though. Polite inquiries to the house elves as to where Harry could possibly practice magic lead him to discover the Room of Requirement. The elves were more than happy to help since "Mr Harry Potter is being so very nice to us!"

 

He never learned to Apparate the traditional way or indeed a lot of his magic. That way he wasn't tracked, not even with the wand he used, as both had to be tracked by ministry records for the spell to register, though Prior Incantato would still tell of what spells he'd performed.

 

Righting himself, he shrank his belongings to fit in a pocket. He could sense the hum of magic in the air, he was sure the place he was looking for was nearby. Reaching out his senses, Harry let them guide him onward.

 

He came to a stop when he could see a visible dome of magic. Hesitating, he stuck an index finger through. Nothing happened, so he stepped through entirely. The view was absolutely stunning.

 

The sun was setting. It cast a beautiful glow upon the little river which trickled gently. There was an arched bridge which allowed crossing. As far as he could see, there were plants, flowers and wildlife of all varieties, as if an artist had dotted his brush with a rainbow of colours, painting the scenery. In the middle of it all stood a large manor. It was almost Victorian in appearance, the walls were painted an off-white and the roof tiles were black. Harry instantly relaxed gazing upon the sight.

 

“Dumbledore could only wish to be this beautiful.” Smirking, he wasted no time before reaching the entrance, taking note of the little sign which read _'Evergreen Manor'._

 

Harry had been planning this for a while now. Entering the Wizarding world, he was blind to all around him. He'd made use of Gringotts and Griphook had been kind enough to teach him of his family's heritage. While he hadn't looked upon what he'd inherited from Sirius and his parents much, what he did set eyes on was a new place to escape the clutches of Dumbledore and his relatives, though the latter no longer mattered.

 

There had been several properties, though this caught his eye the most. It was located in Ireland, right on the outskirts of a forest. There was no one to bother him and that suited him just fine.

 

"Alohomora." He murmured, the door creaking open. He'd have to change it so a simple lower year spell wouldn't allow anyone to gain entry if the wards didn't keep them out.

 

He'd spent the past half an hour touring the place. The design scheme was much the same as the outside, he would consider some redecoration later. There were several rooms, though he was sure there were a couple of hidden rooms, much like what Hogwarts had. He was slightly surprised to note that there was no dust, though that could be due to a house elf.

 

As if it was summoned by his thoughts, a house elf appeared before him, oddly enough wearing a dress.

 

“Greetings Lord Potter, my name is Misty. How can I assist you today?”

 

Harry's eyebrows were above his hairline. He'd never heard of a house elf so well spoken. Still, no matter. It made a refreshing change from the overwhelming presence of Dobby, as much as he was endearing.

 

Harry knelt down to shake her hand. ”Hello Misty, please call me Harry. Could you tell me a little about yourself and the history of this property?”

 

And so she did. Once that was out of the way, Harry asked for a glass of Apple Cider and a sandwich, retiring to the study area. He opened the window, relishing the breeze caressing his face. His eyes sparkled a little when Hedwig flew in the open window. “Hello girl, I knew you'd find me. Could you take a letter to Remus Lupin?"

  
He conjured a bowl of water and some owl treats for her, while he penned his letter.

 

_Remus,_

 

_Are you well? I admit I left in a bit of a hurry. Wish I could've stayed to see the fallout, but I was too consumed by my own rage to appreciate the destruction I caused. Perhaps you can show me the rest that transpired one day? I still can't believe the nerve of Dumbledore. I had grown used to his manipulative ways, but perhaps he felt as though I was slipping from beneath his thumb with the death of the Dursleys. I have never truly been under his thumb, though he doesn't need to know that._

_Anyway, to the point. I've relocated to a place called Evergreen Manor. I've hooked up the Floo Network to yours, so if you ever want to visit, please don't hesitate. The password is 'The Lion's Den'. To anyone else reading, this entire letter will be something to insult them if they have malicious intent. I thought up some rather amusing insults for Dumbledore and Snape if they should read it. I'll tell you of my genius the next time we meet. I look forward to hearing from you!_

_Harry_

_P.S: I charmed the envelope with a unique hex. Do let me know if any suffer the consequences of being nosy little bastards._

 

Placing the letter in an envelope and sealing it with a wax stamp he found in the drawer, Hedwig took off into the rapidly darkening sky.

 

“Unique hex indeed.” he snorted lightly, ”I hope at least the manipulative fool gets his hands on it, I could do with a good laugh.”

 

It was a warm night, so he stripped bare as he entered the master bedroom. Slipping beneath the cool sheets, he immediately fell into a light doze, feeling as though life was going his way for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this seems rushed, it's not my intention at all. I've noticed that in depth detail of surroundings isn't my strong point, so I tend to just give the facts and progress of the story, I'll try to improve upon that. Ah, enjoy what very little I've written though!


	3. I Have A Vagina!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's booby-trapped his letter to Remus, in the event of meddling old coots or greasy bastards interfering. This is the result of their nosiness.

“Good evening everyone. Welcome to The Order of The Phoenix. I have called this meeting in session due to what happened last night. Harry Potter-” Here Dumbledore waited a few seconds to build suspense, at this Remus casually rolled his eyes, “Has become a dark wizard.” He stopped speaking so the gasps of outrage were allowed to ring throughout the otherwise silent room. ”He killed his own relatives in cold blood, before using powerful magic to destroy his surroundings. We need to capture and subdue him. Thoughts?”

 

Idly stirring his lukewarm tea, Remus wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was still doing here. He wasn't sure if he was feeling some sense of responsibility to keep his cub safe in case of what Dumbledore was planning, or to be part of the resistance who opposes Voldemort.

 

Well, they say resistance. He says it's just a bunch of people wasting time discussing things, some not even relating to said Dark Lord when they could be out there crippling Death Eater bastards and planning courses of action so that they were always at least one step ahead of old Snake Face.

 

 _'Albus relies on Severus too much.'_   Remus thought, fingers softly tapping on the table which he was sat at, _'No Unbreakable Vow was taken, he said so himself. His confidence in Severus is that great. What's to stop him from leaking important information? Nothing, that's what.'_

 

His attuned senses, unfortunately, couldn't block Albus' waffling out, but he did smell something familiar. A little like Harry, but mostly the outdoors.

 

His suspicions confirmed Hedwig gave a little hoot, gliding in through the narrow window to land in front of him, leg outstretched. He wasn't sure at first how she could find Grimmauld Place since it was protected by Fidelus, but then Harry must have told her. Dumbledore couldn't remove Harry since Sirius was still legally listed as the owner, deceased or not. If Sirius had left this house to him, he could kick everyone out if he chose to.

 

He'd barely touched the envelope before it was snatched from his grasp. He didn't know the old man was anywhere near him. He barely restrained baring his teeth in a growl and his eyes flashed amber for a second. No one stopped him from seeing how his cub was doing!

 

He was about to take the letter back and leave, but he was more than glad he decided to wait, going with his gut feeling that Harry had jinxed the letter.

 

He wasn't wrong. To his amusement, Albus' cheeks turned pink. He watched as his eyes scanned the paper before a full blush consumed his face. Severus removed himself from the shadows, one eyebrow raised as he read the letter from behind. Severus was furious, judging by the red tinge to his skin and the throbbing vein at his temple. Unknown to the men, something was growing from their foreheads. It was only the fact that the things dangled between their eyes they took notice. Once Remus realised what they were, he had to cover his face with his hands in an attempt to hide the laughter.

 

The things dangling from their foreheads were phallus like. Not just phallus like, they were so realistic it was like they were surgically removed from where they were supposed to be and sewn into a new location. What did the muggles call them, dildos? That was the word, though they pulsated like real members.

 

Dumbledore went cross-eyed as he tried to look at what he was seeing. ”Ahh!” He let loose a very girlish scream. So girlish in fact, he had to wonder. Forgetting the company he was in, he shifted his blue robes out of the way, to pull the elastic of his trousers and underwear open. He paled drastically, squeaking similar to if a mouse had been trodden on.

 

“I have a vagina!” At this, the entire table burst into laughter, save Remus. Remus was going to wait until he could Floo home, then laugh to his heart's content. He'd buy that kid a few rounds, underage or not.

 

One Severus Snape looked at Albus incredulously, before sneaking a glance at his own private area. He was already white as a sheet so he practically took on a frostbite tone. Several members of the order noticed that the men's robes were bulging in certain places, rapidly growing bigger.

 

“Hey, you've got bigger tits than me!” Tonks grumbled, before morphing herself into a buxom blonde. ”That's better.” She turned to wink at Remus, who snorted loudly.

 

Simultaneously, the men went to grab their chests in horror. As one, they ran shrieking from the room. He had to wonder, though, what the letter said to them. Speaking of the letter, Remus picked up the discarded paper on the floor, waving goodbye to the remaining order members, who were all in tears laughing except the odd one or two, who also stood up to leave.

 

Exiting the house, Remus' lips twitched. He was a hair's width from splinching himself by Apparating but luckily, he didn't. He scanned the contents of the letter as he opened the door to his cottage. Nodding to himself, he decided to pay Harry a visit, see if he was in.

 

“The Lion's Den” He called out clearly and firmly, as he stepped into the Floo. With a whoosh he was off, stepping out of the other fireplace with grace, unlike Harry. He'd have to teach him how to do so.

 

In the end, it proved too much for poor old Remus. He just about made it to a chair, before the laughs overtook him. Tears were streaming down his face. Moony was equally amused, so his laughter only amplified. Harry found him a few minutes later, hearing the sound of the Floo and laughter. He noticed the letter clutched in Remus' grip, eyes twinkling similarly to Dumbledore's as he'd guessed what happened. Relaxing on the sofa in amusement, he patted Remus on the back, settling in and waiting for the laughs to die down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Don't take this fic seriously at all. I definitely don't! Next chapter's from Harry's POV, what he does for the day and what happens after he finds Remus. Fun times ahead! :)


	4. The Real Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry changes up his appearance, Remus pays a visit and something unexpected happens.

Slowly opening his eyes, Harry found himself laying upon one of the softest pillows he'd had the pleasure of feeling. The sheets were cool and refreshing to the touch. After a few moments thought, the events of yesterday replayed through his mind. So much had happened within that time period.

 

He removed himself from the bed, stretching almost cat-like. He had a few items of muggle clothing, but he'd thankfully had a growth spurt recently, so he'd have to purchase some more.

 

Selecting a long-sleeved dark shirt and black jeans, he checked his wand was still in the holster on his left arm. He'd taken to sleeping with it on. He didn't trust to take it off at night. Not that it was uncomfortable at all.

 

Confirming that his wand was indeed there, he navigated the manor until he arrived at the kitchen. He was just about to make himself an Omelette when Misty popped in.

 

“Lord Potter! Let Misty take care of this.”

 

Smiling a little, he turned to address her. “Thank you for the offer, but I don't mind cooking. You could perhaps clean up after me if you wish for something to do? Also, please call me Harry, the title of Lord makes me sound more adult and responsible than I am.” He grinned a little.

 

Misty let out a shaky laugh, nodding in acceptance of his requests, before popping away again.

 

“Handy that the fridge is filled with exactly what I need, wonder if Misty does the shopping?” He spoke aloud. He threw some ham, eggs, cheese and a little salt and pepper into the mix before he happily tucked into a light breakfast.

 

He decided to go into Diagon Alley, as there were some things he needed to do, now that he'd started the journey of carving his own path. He only needed to make a quick trip into Gringotts to ask about something, as the past few years what vaults owned by his parents and more recently Sirius, he'd claimed any and all items of sentimental value. He had yet to unpack his belongings but would do eventually.

 

He was wondering how to remove The Order of The Phoenix from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He was unsure of the process and wanted to know. Once he had the knowledge, he'd wait. He wanted to give it some time, for the right moment they were all inevitably booted out on their arses, except Remus. Though Harry had a feeling that he wouldn't voluntarily choose to be there, if not for The Order.

 

Everything else was just a case of buying his school supplies. He hadn't had his Hogwarts letter yet, but he had an idea of what to buy. In truth, he was after buying a lot of things and chances are he'd cover the required textbooks during his purchases, but would ask just to be sure.

 

As he'd done so when heading into Diagon Alley for the past 5 or so years, he placed a strong glamour charm over his body. Conjuring a pin, he pricked a finger, placing it against his forehead. The blood dissolved into the disguise. This way, he was keyed into his own magic so while others could sense the glamour, they wouldn't be able to remove it as they needed his blood to do so. Experimenting with magic has its perks! It wasn't anything drastic, just something which made his face easily forgettable.

 

He had his pouch of Galleons secured to his waist, in a little drawstring bag. He'd placed anti-summoning, theft and a myriad of other charms on the pouch to prevent people from getting their hands on it. The pouch was linked to the Evans vault. He had Sirius', The Potters, The Evans' and his Trust Vault.

 

Once he had everything sorted, Harry opened and locked the door of the manor, apparating with a faint crack.

 

He reappeared in one of the darkened side alleys. Eyes shining in determination, he went about Diagon Alley doing his business.

 

 _'Lucky we wizards have charms to shrink and lighten items.'_   He thought as he patted his jean pockets, not for the first time blessing the magic in his life. _'Otherwise, I'd be fucked.'_

 

He'd got everything he needed for the new school year, plus some little extras. He'd found out how to remove everyone from Grimmauld as well. All he had to do was edit the name log. For every house under the fidelus, there was a log tracking who was allowed into the property. Harry now owned this log and he could add and remove whoever he wished. He was glad the process was simple.

 

He'd snuck into Knockturn Alley as well. Ever since his 2nd year when he'd accidentally flooed into the place, he'd been intrigued at what it could offer. The answer was another wand which wasn't traced by the ministry. He'd had to pay a whopping 35 Galleons, but it was worth it. Surprisingly, he had a stronger connection to this than he did to his old wand, so he'd decided to buy 2 new wand holsters. These had spring actions and with just a thought, the wands would eject to slide smoothly into the owner's hands, though it took practice. He shifted his Holly wand onto his right arm, while his new wand was near his stronger arm. The core was that of a Hargraven feather and the Heartstring of Alduin, a Dragon long lost to legend. The wood was dark ash, polished to a shine. Needless to say, the wand was incredibly rare, not to mention illegal. Harry had broken more rules in his life than the professional rule breakers so, at this point, he really couldn't give a shit.

 

Now came to the thing which he really wanted to do. Alter his appearance.

 

There was an obscure shop he knew of right at the very end of Diagon Alley. It offered haircuts, tattoos and piercings. He was planning on all 3. He really wanted to express himself and this was one way of doing it.

 

He opened the door, a little bell ringing as he did so. A petite witch greeted him.

 

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” She smiled, the dimples in her cheeks showing.

 

“I'm looking to get a haircut, possibly dyed. Also, I was thinking of getting a few tattoos and piercings?” 

 

“Certainly!” She clapped her hands excitedly, dragging him a little by the wrist. “Now do you have any ideas of what you'd like?”

 

Harry did, in fact.

 

After much discussion, his hair was done first. It was shorter, not as messy. Artfully spiky would be a better term. His fringe was chopped so it sloped more towards his scar, the other side shorter. At the back of his head, he had layers of his hair dyed green and decided to get a little green tint, only noticeable if you stood in the light, but more so at the back. The colour accentuated his eyes nicely.

 

He had both ears pierced and after some extra thought, his nose. The best thing about piercings in the wizarding world while more uncommon, you could immediately heal the area with your wand, as though the healing process had taken a few months instead of a few seconds. After what he'd been through, he was sure his tolerance for pain was abnormally high. He had simple titanium studs, but actually had plans for jewellery once he headed back home.

 

Finally, what Harry loved the most, the tattoos. On his arm, was the Basilisk which he had to kill in his second year, coiled and ready to strike, eyes that if real, would definitely kill you. He never actually wanted to kill her, he had no choice. He loved reptiles of all kinds and had developed a tentative bond with a lot of the common snakes around Privet Drive. He'd come to understand a lot of their thought processes and ways. Through this, he knew the Basilisk wasn't of her own free will and sound of mind. She was utterly under the control of Riddle and still was, after all these years. The longer Imperio was put upon her, the more it became her natural state of mind. He felt true sorrow that day. He had to slaughter such a magnificent serpent thanks to that Dick Lord. While it was true he nearly died due to her venom, it was partially his fault, to begin with, though he was thankful for Fawkes saving his life. So this tattoo was to honour her. The man paled a little, but thankfully his nervousness didn't pass over to the artwork on his skin.

 

His second tattoo was more simplistic and he decided to have it placed above his navel. It was of Padfoot, with a trail of paw prints left behind him. He was in love with both and barely felt any pain as they were inked onto and into his skin. He was very happy.

 

Leaving the shop, he made one more stop to purchase clear contact lenses with a few charms placed upon them so he could throw away the pieces of shit that were his glasses before he was finally done for the day, disappearing where he stood. Removing the glamour, he unlocked the door and headed back inside, more than a little bemused when he heard hysterical laughter.

 

He found Remus, in a slumped state resting his back against the sofa. He threw his head back as tears cascaded down his worn face. Oh, he couldn't wait to find out what happened. Hedwig was efficient, he was almost certain that his letter had been received. This was confirmed when he spotted a crumpled piece of parchment in his tight grasp.

 

He sat down, laughing a little himself. A few minutes later and Remus was composed enough to sit beside him and sling an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Oh Harry, I haven't laughed this hard in years, with the exception of your dramatic disappearance the other day. You truly are your father's son.” He ruffled Harry's hair affectionately, taking note of his appearance. “You've been busy! So other than your appearance, anything else new?"

 

Harry removed his shirt, Remus' eyes twinkled in amusement at the Basilisk. Only Harry would want a reminder of his own near death. He teared up a little at the reminder of Sirius, but it brought forth warm memories in his heart.

 

Sensing his sadness a little, Harry gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “I thought it would be a good reminder that while we have lost many, a marauder and their legacy still lives on.”

 

Remus smiled at this, eyes brightening a little. “Indeed, it's a wonderful piece of art, though I imagine many will run screaming when they see a Basilisk on your arm.”

 

Harry snorted. ”True, can't deny that. So, care to tell me what happened?”

 

The Marauder rubbed his hands in barely restrained glee. “Oh, with pleasure. I'll have to borrow Albus' Pensive and bullshit that I, 'Need it to help organise my thoughts.' unless you have one here?”

 

Harry thought for a moment. ”I'm not sure if I do or don't, to be honest.” He called out tentatively. ”Misty?”

 

The little elf was before him. ”Yes, Harry?”

 

“Do we have a Pensieve at all?”

 

She nodded, her large ears flapping from the force. “Yes, shall I fetch it for you?”

 

Harry grinned, a glint in his eye. “Please!”

 

In a few moments, a pensieve was before them, surprisingly sturdy since it was planted upon a rather thick carpet.

 

“Cheers Misty!” Harry called out. She probably heard him.

 

Remus stood up to remove his wand, Harry standing up as well.

 

He pulled out 2 strands of memories. The one where Harry lost control of his magic, the other The Order Meeting.

 

“Let's get started then!” Remus clapped Harry on the shoulder, before they leaned over the Pensieve, pulled within Remus' thoughts.

 

Harry was stunned. His eyes really glowed like that? Damn! He was too angry to pay attention to anything other than the people who raised his ire so to see the destruction caused from Remus' point of view was staggering.

 

Said man who provided this memory turned to him, eyes calculating. “You know, you were quite intimidating that night. I'm not sure half the order recovered from your outburst, though it was long overdue.” He gave Harry a side hug. “I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you more.”

 

Harry shook his head. “You're here now, that's all that matters.” Harry whistled low, watching the memory finish before it was black for a moment. “No wonder Dumbledore shat himself, bloody hell! Mind you at his age his bowels were bound to accidentally give away sooner or later.”

 

Remus laughed, disgusted but amused. “Thank you for the lovely image!”

 

By the end of Remus' second memory, the pair were holding onto each other for support due to the laughs which shook their bodies. Harry was mainly amused, but angry that Dumbledore would drop him quicker than a shit in the toilet bowl once he realised he'd broken free from his personal chess set and that he actually dared to snatch a letter specifically addressed to Remus. Even he didn't think the old man would go that far because he needed all the people he could get who believed he was the sunshine and rainbows of the Wizarding world, but apparently now that Harry was gone, his mask had slipped a little.

 

Once the two landed back in the living room, they spent a few hours chatting away and as a whole, growing closer together and cementing their friendship with stronger bonds. Remus was reluctant to keep going to the order, but would for Harry's sake. Firstly because he can pass any information onto him and secondly if there was ever a repeat of earlier that day, it would be more than worth it to sit through Albus' bollocks of an Order Meeting.

 

With an offer of staying whenever he liked, Remus waved goodbye, flooing home.

 

Harry, was now going to attempt some permanent transfiguration. He went upstairs into his bedroom, looking at the full-length dress mirror. He pointed his wand at his left ear, focusing on what he wanted it to be.

 

With delight, he noticed that it worked, his right ear changing to match the left. He now had studs in his ears which were of a golden lion's head, the eyes were glittering, similar to rubies.

 

He next pointed his wand at his nose stud. This time it took a few more tries, but he was eventually successful. It was now a ring, a delicate silver snake and where the hole of piercing was, a tiny snakehead was near, little titanium tongue sticking out. Its eyes were Forest Green. After further thought, he charmed them with the intent of what he wanted. In this case, his studs would detect nearby threats, such as enemies and potions slipped into food and drink. His nose ring would allow him to see through disguise magic and items, much like Dumbledore. It was a little something for now, but it would do. His design choices were rather poetic in his mind. He truly was a Slytherin within Gryffindor clothing.

 

He lay back on his bed for a little, just thinking. He wasn't sure what to do with his life. He would continue attending Hogwarts and kill the Dark Knob Jockey, but he was woefully unprepared. He would take a leaf from Hermione's book and read texts until the knowledge left an imprint on his brain.

 

A sharp, burning pain brought him from his thoughts. His eyes widened slightly. The scar left there by the Basilisk was slowly but surely fading. The pain was still there, but it encompassed his whole body. It was similar to that of the Cruciatus, but the liquid fire in his veins felt like ice. Perspiration rolled down his brow and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. As suddenly as it started, it stopped. His left arm with the Basilisk tattoo was almost feverishly warm. Harry was stunned when the tattoo actually moved. He could feel and see the mini Basilisk uncoil. She crawled up his shoulder and came to a rest on his back. She'd expanded to cover the wider space. He'd never heard of an animated tattoo before. How? Why?

 

He had a guess, though at this point there was no proof. His scar had healed over and while Phoenix Tears had cured him, the Basilisk venom had entered his bloodstream first. Because he'd provided a memory of the Basilisk for the tattooist to see (Thankfully the memory Basilisk couldn't kill him with her gaze) somehow, the representation of her inked into his skin and the little venom in his blood must have bonded. She was essential, a part of him in a way.

 

His blood ran cold when he heard a sibilant whisper in the corner of his mind.

 

_“Harry Potter, we meet again...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 house points if you know the wand cores reference!


	5. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something rather unexpected Happens. Later on, Dumbledore dares to cross the hidden line which should have never been-Attacking Harry's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, anything bold and italic is Parseltongue. I've decided to have Aela speak English with a hissing accent in Harry's mind but as he's the one making eye contact, he speaks Parseltongue with her :)

Harry stayed very still, trying not give in to the sudden fear which had gripped his embarrassingly small frame.

 

A tingle ran up his left arm, where his tattoo resided. He was hit with only mild surprise when the realistic looking Basilisk was moving. It uncurled from its position, staring into his emerald gaze with a piercing glint. Harry was thankful in that moment that the eyes merely represented the real life thing and didn't carry any of the properties.

 

 _ **"Was that you, who spoke within my mind?"**_ He was startled when he'd spoke Parseltongue instead of English. Then again, he shouldn't be. He'd found himself accidentally breaking into hisses if anything remotely serpent-like was in his visual range. It was rather disconcerting, especially if you were in the middle of a conversation with someone who definitely wasn't a snake nor did they know Parseltongue.

 

 ** _"It wass, sspeaker. My name is Aela."_  ** Harry raised an eyebrow, inclining his head politely.  " _ **Pleasssure to meet you, Aela. What brought this about?"**_

 

It was strange, considering he was practically having a conversation with his own arm. _'If only they could see me now.'_   Harry rolled his eyes. He'd be carted off to the nearest secure ward at St Mungos. He didn't know how or why his tattoo suddenly became sentient or indeed why he no longer had a scar, but he had a feeling his questions may have answers.

 

 ** _"Let me explain."_   **Once the emerald-eyed human nodded his assent, the animated Basilisk moved to Harry's shoulder, nearer his ear.

 

**_"For 4 years, you have had the blood of the Basilisssk flowing freely through your veins. It is only thanks to your Parseltongue ability which offers you some degree of immunity to all snake venom and the tears of a Phoenix which saved your life. Once you decided to ink me onto your skin, the exact likeness of the inked basilisk called to the venom and magic in your blood. The ink absorbed the venom, healing the point of impact. I have a slight degree of awareness as the Basilisk untainted by Riddle which you defeated in the chamber those years ago. Most of my awareness comes from you. I share your knowledge, but not how you came to acquire that knowledge nor anything associated with it. Once you go back to Hogwarts, go to the chamber. Repeat the very words which Tom Riddle uttered. She will rise once more, free of him. I will leave your body as will the venom. I will no longer be sentient and the mark marring your skin will remain unmoving. For now, until my moment of release, I am with you."_ **

 

“Bloody buggering hell.” He groaned, rubbing his face wearily. “Nothing is ever simple, is it? I go to get a regular old tattoo but no, the Boy-Who-Has-Too-Many-Buggering-Titles has to have some part of the Basilisk he killed in the chamber years ago come alive in his body.”

 

 **"For what it's worth,"** Harry eyed the Basilisk with something akin to amusement. _**"Welcome to Hotel wonder boy. Please enjoy your stay and ignore frequent visions of maniacal Dark Lords and dreams of strangling lemon drop loving old coots."**_

 

The Basilisk merely blinked, choosing to curl in its coil again.

 

“Huh.” Harry thought she had a good idea. He didn't even bother to move from where he was. His tired eyes shut and within minutes, he was asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Remus reclined slightly in the worn threadbare armchair which he favoured, letting the soothing herbal taste of lemon and barley tea warm his insides. It was the little things like this which he lived for.

 

Day by day, the order meetings were starting to wear on him and it was only when visiting Harry that his life didn't seem as chaotic, as ironic as that sounded, taking into consideration the young man who he voluntarily spent time with attracted trouble much like a magnet.

 

With him, though, the pain of losing Sirius wasn't quite as pronounced. It still hurt him deeply, more so as he was a werewolf because Sirius was a part of his pack and his mate. The bond was only ever broken by death and when one died, a piece of you physically died with him or her.

 

But yes, the order meetings. His respect for Albus since the day Harry lost control of his magic a few days ago had plummeted. He was starting to regard him as nothing more than a bumbling old fool. Of course, Albus was powerful, but his self-assurance would be his downfall, as would him trusting in Severus Snape.

 

The meetings were daily now instead of weekly and often went on for several hours. These days it wasn't even discussing Voldemort, but Harry! The man who was firmly on their side and would sooner join Voldemort's cause than Lucius Malfoy declaring his undying love for him.

 

Remus couldn't help but let a little snort slip out. Oh but that would be the day...

 

He finished his tea, fully relaxing into the chair and more than happy to slip into a light sleep right there. He hadn't bothered to change out of his clothes as he'd left Grimmauld Place about an hour ago.

 

* * *

 

 

Remus jerked awake with a start. He was sure he heard something. Thanking his attuned sense of hearing for probably not the last time, he slowly slipped his wand from the holster attached to his arm. It was worn, much like a lot of his possessions, but serviced well.

 

The wards placed around his home didn't indicate an intruder but he was still wary. He had a right to be.

 

His eyes widened in growing alarm as the windows of his cottage smashed, shards would have pierced his skin if not for the hasty Protego.

 

“What the hell?” He shouted, placing a disillusionment charm on himself. The Wards should have alerted him to anything wrong but to his confusion, they hadn't.

 

Until they dropped all of a sudden. Shit.

 

 _'Whoever this is, they must be a curse breaker or have someone with them.'_   Remus thought, panicking. If it was Death Eaters, he was hoping none of the elite was here, such as Bellatrix Lestrange. That was the last thing he needed right now.

 

It was all he could do but suddenly dive out of the way, as a loudly uttered Confringo headed for the closed door, blasting a huge hole into the wall, debris and bits of wood flying everywhere.

 

He couldn't believe what, or who, he saw.

 

It was Dumbledore, with several others. Snape, Kingsley, Mad-eye, and Bill Weasley.

 

Mad-eye immediately spotted him crouching in the corner.

 

“Don't bother hiding Lupin.” He growled, his wooden leg grating harshly with the floor. “You're not leaving here tonight.”

 

 Before Remus could even respond, Dumbledore took over the explanation, before his and 5 other wands pointed directly at him.

 

“I cannot allow you to leave alive, Remus.” Dumbledore's eyes took on a hard glint and Sev- No Snivellus, was smiling in that nasty way of his. “You have been working with the enemy, Harry Potter. He is a dark wizard and because you're choosing to associate with him, you will pay the consequences.”

 

“You can't be serious Albus!” Remus gave him an incredulous look, stopping his pacing when a few wands sparked magic in warning. “We can't afford to turn on our own people when Voldemort is out there, what are you thinking?”

 

Dumbledore shook his head before false regret entered his eyes. “I'm sorry Remus, it's for The Greater Good.”

 

Abandoning all shocking thoughts, Remus immediately entered into a battle stance, wand outstretched. It was with a growing sense of horror when spells were not aimed at him, but the surrounding room. Several incendios and one Fiendfyre erupted from wands, immediately setting the place ablaze. The 5 wizards apparated, but not before firing debilitating spells at Remus. One which he failed to dodge, the smoke from the fire clouding his vision. The bone shattering curse immediately hit his right leg and it was all he could do to keep from screaming as he landed on his knee, jarring his lower leg. He had to get out of here. Thanking whatever deity was up there that he hadn't lost his wand in the confusion, the crawl to the blast in the wall was a slow one. He could feel his skin melting and bubbling. He wanted so dearly to pass out but couldn't. He needed to live, he had to warn Harry!

 

At last, he crawled a fair distance away from his home. He had doubts anything could be recovered.

 

“Aguamenti” he croaked, attempting to put out the fire on him. He succeeded, thankfully. He couldn't Floo, but he could apparate. He was well aware of trying to apparate in his current state, but he would die trying. Putting the excruciating pain he was in to the back of his mind, he focused with all his might, on Evergreen Manor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was with some shock and no less alarm that the wards indicating an intruder flared as Harry was having an early night. Quickly throwing simple black robes on, he checked for both his wands before looking out of the window.

 

Oh my god, Remus!

 

Harry didn't care for stairs right now. He jumped from said window, using arresto momentum to slow his fall. He could tell it was his friend before checking. One of the charms he had installed into his lenses was to identify people and as soon as he cast eyes on the charred body, he knew.

 

Harry ran to him, desperately checking for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Harry nearly wept with relief. A hand touched his own and he gazed into the pained eyes of the only family he had left.

 

“Harry.” he coughed violently. Speaking looked painful for the man.

 

“Shh, ” Harry quietened him. “I'm going to get you help and I'll murder the fucking bastards who did this to you.” Eyes hardening, he called for Misty.

 

“Yes, Harry?” She asked, eyes wide upon seeing Remus.

 

“Could you take Remus to St Mungo's emergency ward? I would, but I'm in no fit state to apparate someone else right now.”

 

“Of course.” With a snap of her fingers, a stretcher was placed under Remus, before the two disappeared, Harry shortly following them.

 

He explained what had happened at the front desk and Remus was rushed straight into a room. It was all Harry could do to not completely break down. Couldn't he have a break, just once? He paced up and down outside the door, seating himself when the pacing only made him feel more agitated.

 

It had been several hours now. In fact, it was somewhat early in the morning and Remus had been rushed in around 8pm last night. God, he hoped he was ok-

 

“Mr Potter.”

 

Harry looked up from his brooding, noting that the healer's name was McCarthy.

 

Seeing his silent question as an affirmation to continue speaking, the man took the chair opposite him.

 

“He is in critical condition. The bones in his right leg are shattered knee down and his vocal chords and lungs are damaged from the intake of smoke. Burns cover 50% of his body but his lycanthropy works somewhat to his advantage. He was attacked with Fiendfyre. Perhaps not directly but with his surroundings. He will not scar from this. Mr Lupin has a higher resistance to dark or darker magic due to his condition and in this case, it will be more of a help than a hindrance. As for his other injuries, as with a lot of things, it will take time.”

 

Harry nodded, relief taking some weight off his shoulders. “Can I see him?”

 

The healer nodded. “I believe he is awake, you can stay with him as long as you wish. He'll have to stay with us for at least a few weeks before you can take him home.”

 

Harry nodded, opening the double doors.

 

A tousled head looked in his direction. Harry winced at the burns which started from his left cheek and trailed to his chest, the rest covered by sheets.

 

He took the chair by Remus, taking his hand in his.

 

“Hey, Cub.” Remus rasped out, smiling.

 

Harry looked down, cursing internally when traitorous tears slipped down his face.

 

 _'There goes my badass image.'_   Harry snorted to himself.

 

He looked up when the hand he was holding removed itself, cupping his cheek tenderly.

 

Harry fixed his green gaze on Remus' amber ones.

 

“Whoever did this will pay severely. I swear to you.”

 

A tendril of blue magic linked the two together before it was swept away into the air.

 

“Oh.” Harry blinked.

 

Remus gave a quiet chuckle, which soon descended into coughs.

 

“Here.” Harry gently lifted his head, so he could take a few sips of the water he held.

 

“Thanks.” He sighed in relief, before looking at Harry seriously.

 

“You need to be careful Harry. The people who attacked me were part of the order.” At Harry's shocked and enraged look, he continued before Harry could say anything. “Dumbledore, Snape, Kingsley, Mad-eye, and Bill.”

 

Harry placed his hand over the one still on his cheek.

 

“I will murder the fuckers.” Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Remus removed his hand, settling back into the covers.

 

“What the fuck is my life? Do you,” Harry looked up. “Do you want me to see if there's anything left at your home?”

 

He gazed at Harry sadly, nodding. “I don't think there will be, but thank you anyway.”

 

Harry smiled, a glossy sheen to his eyes. ”It's the least I can do.” With a pat on Remus' shoulder, Harry left to salvage whatever might remain.

 

* * *

 

 Dropping to the charred ground on his knees, Harry promptly choked on the air which was thick with the acrid smell of ozone, burnt flesh and death.

 

Death, for the Fiendfyre surely destroyed most if not all of Remus' quaint little cottage. Looking at what was left or what wasn't left, Harry cautiously approached the ruins, sending out a scan with his magic which would detect any non-threatening items within the area.

 

He feared that everything was destroyed until a faint silvery glow indicated that something had survived the attack. A few minutes of levitating rubble and debris later, Harry hastily rubbed at the grime and sweat which had gathered on his person, to gingerly reach into the pile and pull out a slightly burned book.

 

To Harry's amazement, it was a photo album. Of all the things which could survive Fiendfyre-why was this not ashes that had long since been scattered among the breeze? Deciding not to question his luck, he hastily pocketed the book in favour of returning home to peruse it further. Visiting hours were now over, so he would return the album to Remus the next afternoon.

 

Several minutes later, found Harry with the album rested on his lap, chamomile tea warming his chilled hands. Flicking through the pages, he found several photos. Some of Remus and his family, Hogwarts, his parents, a few with the marauders.

 

But one single photo right at the very end caught his eye. His breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat. It was of Remus and Sirius and in that one animated moment, all the trials and hardships of war seemed to have melted from their faces. In their place were left middle-aged men who looked so indescribably happy. It looked recent, not long before Sirius met his demise. It pictured Remus, idly flicking through some book or other before Sirius suddenly shot into the photo, arms locking around the werewolf so he dropped his book, arms drawing his Godfather closer. Sirius whispered something to Remus before the man grinned. He spun Sirius about on the spot, kissing him, smiles on their lips. They both turned to wave and smile at the camera before the photo infinitely looped once again.

 

Harry bit his lip, though his heart and eyes were smiling, he couldn't prevent the tears even if he wanted to. For the loss of life and how unfair it was.

 

Harry had known for some time that the pair had shared more than a friendship. He had vague suspicions when he'd first met the pair at 13 and the secret glances and smiles only confirmed his suspicions. The most saddening thing was, a lot of the members of the order of the phoenix were aged and therefore had old-fashioned ideals that a man shouldn't lie down with another man. Even the younger generation raised by their judgmental parents showed clear disgust for same-sex relationships.

 

So Sirius and Remus had to keep their relationship private. Harry dearly wanted to tell the pair that they had his full support among the masses of hate but there was neither the time nor the opportunity that he could bring it up. Personally, he was of the mind that it didn't matter. There were idiots among humanity, there was no doubt about that. It wasn't restricted to a certain race, religion or sexuality. It was something which humanity of all kinds suffered. It didn't matter to Harry what or who people were. As long as they were nice to him, he was nice to them. He was not under any illusion that it was as simple as that, but Wizards had the habit of making life overly complicated. So what if a man is attracted to another man? As long as they're happy and not harming anyone else, what was the problem? Love is love, no matter what, something even the muggle world didn't grasp. He was bisexual, personally. Though he hadn't had a steady relationship or even one to speak of, he found himself attracted to both sexes, though he didn't regard Snape as one of them. He really wasn't into bestiality of the bat variety. Harry would never personally understand the issues but perhaps with time, would come more acceptance.

 

Feeling like he had brooded enough, Harry spent the rest of his time exploring the limitations of his magic. He had become confused as to why all of a sudden, his magical core had spiked with power. Inquiries here and there indicated that someone had placed a magical block on him and was failed to be informed of this. He had the suspicious feeling that it was the old coot who had done so.

 

“You or your lackeys won't get away with this Dumbledore. You hurt me, that's a given. I've been your chew toy for far too long, it's only expected. You hurt someone I care about? You'll know about it! If you play with fire, you get burned.”

 

Harry made the promise to himself. For Remus, for him, he would have his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any ideas of where this story could go, let me know. I have no actual plot as of this moment when I decided to continue this so sorry xD I'm open to suggestions though and I hope this isn't turning boring!


	6. Marauder & More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry informs Remus of something which he'd known for the past 3 years, he goes through a lot of pain even by his standards and while all that is happening, he tones up and gets teased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of regular updating though I did leave a warning stating I'd be terrible at it. It's not that I have no ideas, just when to add them without the whole thing feeling or sounding rushed and dull. Pointers are appreciated!

It was the next afternoon and as Harry promised himself, he went to visit Remus, album in hand.

 

Luck had it that the man was awake, his gaze immediately landing on the photo album. He paled slightly and the only reason Harry could think of why was the photo at the very back which Harry and he suspected the tawny-haired man loved the most.

 

He sat down in the chair beside Remus, placing the album in his lap.

  
"I know about the picture." Harry decided that blunt was best before he shot him an apologetic look. "I know I could've snuck in to give it back to you yesterday but I like not having St Mungo's healers on my arse." He gazed at the man passionately, raising a single finger before he could say anything.

  
"Give me a minute, I need to tell you this, I've wanted to for years." Harry crossed one leg over the other, hands clasped on top.

  
"I don't care about Sirius being your mate, lover, whatever you want to call it. Personally, I'm happy you found someone you deeply care about in these dark shitty times. Life's too short for others to worry about who someone else chooses to be with. Who cares if someone likes the best of both genders, the opposite gender or the same gender? At the end of the day love is love no matter what and if the narrow-minded members of the order or indeed anyone can't see that, it's their loss. They should mind their own bloody business anyway." Smirking a little, he continued. "I've suspected since I saw you both interact 3rd year. It was like pieces of you were being restored before my very eyes. I saw the way you looked at each other, your eyes speaking more than words ever did. It was one of the bright spots in my life that despite everything, something as normal as love could blossom. I support you Remus and I always will, no matter what. Hey, I bat for both teams myself! So I'd be a hypocrite to judge. No hitting on me, though, you sly old wolf." He winked, grinning cheekily.

 

Remus was shocked and definitely emotional. He loved Harry very much like a son and though his disgust in him, if it would ever happen, would upset him, he would love him no less. In fact, he expected as much once Harry found the picture but to not only hear that he supported the relationship he had with Sirius but had known for a while now was a huge revelation. He almost felt ashamed he'd thought the worst of Harry but years of being shunned for his homosexuality instilled a deep-seated fear of anyone finding out. It was nice to confide in someone about the simple things. He had no clue Harry was bisexual, but then again Harry looked to be the kind of guy who loved someone for who they were with no gender to define them.

  
The amber-eyed man choked on his words a little. "Thank you, Harry, your support means the world to me." He grimaced in disgust. "You're a fine young man but that would be incestuous. You're like a son to me."

  
"I am?" He whispered incredulously.

  
He nodded seriously, opening his arms a little as Harry reached over to embrace the bedridden man.

  
"In other news," Remus sounded rather cheerful. "Healer McCarthy spoke with me just before you came. He said that though I'd only arrived the other day, that the burns were healing at an incredible rate. He estimates that I can go home with you in a few days instead of weeks!"

  
Harry couldn't help but be drawn in by Remus' enthusiasm.

  
"Awesome!" And indeed, Harry could see that some of the burns had already cleared up, leaving behind pink tinged skin which had grown back and would fade to normal over time.

  
He took note of Remus' yawn, deciding to bid him farewell. But not before some parting words.

  
"Now that you have wanking material in the form of that last image, do be sure to spell the sheets clean or not leave a noticeable mess, the poor healers will be scarred for life."

   
Laughing at Remus' sputter of indignation and rising blush, Harry went home.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a few hours later, whereby Harry was firmly rooted to the spot. He reread the letter over again, to be sure that he was not mistaken.

  
_Lord Potter,_

  
_It is with some regret that I was unable to contact you earlier than this. Due to you being placed with The Dursleys, certain letters of importance over the years were unable to find their way to you. One Albus Dumbledore placed your place of residence under the fidelus, with him as secret keeper. It was only your location to another place and presumably away from him that allowed me to send this letter._

  
_You have visited the bank recently, but documents confirming your change of housing were only just updated now._

  
_This is to inform you of several powerful and illegal blocks placed upon your magic. A high level of magical disturbance resulting in minor to moderate damage to the area around Privet Drive forcibly broke one of the minor_ _blocks. Emotions, particularly high levels of anger, can contribute to this._

  
_This is why your power levels may have spiked or become irregular. It will remain this way until your magical core adapts to the use of magic._

  
_There is a Portkey enclosed to the lower levels of Gringotts, where an associate of mine specialising in specific forms of magic will assist you in removing these blocks. However, this has to be done over time. Details of how many, when and why these blocks were placed on you will be discussed upon your arrival._

  
_The choice of when to remove each block is entirely up to you. This Portkey is keyed to you and you only. No one will be able to take that. It is recommended that any blocks removed should be given a fortnight for your magical core to adjust._

  
_May the blood of your enemies flow freely,_

  
_Griphook_

  
Harry took deep breaths, but he couldn't prevent the slight green glow and the brightening of his emerald eyes in his silent anger.

  
"The old fucker does it again!" He snarled in a rage.

  
_**"I presume you mean Longbeard?"**_   Aela hissed from his arm.

  
Harry smiled a little, despite his mood. _**"The very same."** _

  
He sighed. Better late than never. He touched the golden ring which came with the letter, heading to Gringotts.

  
It was with some luck that for once, Harry didn't lose his footing. Judging from the rather long and menacing stalactites which hung from the ceiling and the damp smell which permeated the air, he guessed they were deeper down than he'd ever been.

  
An old withered goblin looked up sharply at his arrival, placing the Quill down that he'd been writing with and approaching him.

  
"Mr Potter, I have heard much about you. I am Dragonclaw, Griphook's associate. Friend, really, but he doesn't want to admit that."

  
Smirking in amusement, Harry bowed lightly. "Greetings Dragonclaw. Shall we get down to business?"

  
The goblin nodded, wisps of hair fluttering in the breeze. "Indeed."

  
It was all Harry could do to not approach Dumbledore and castrate him, for all the good that will do. As much as Snape and Dumbledore looked like bum chums with the number of times the greasy git sniffed it, he didn't know nor want to know if the man was sexually active. As it was, the deep drink of grog which Harry found he rather liked for some odd reason helped to calm his nerves.

  
"I see." Harry gritted his teeth, unable to form more of a response for the moment until he got his temper under control.

  
Dumbledore, in his infinite so-called wisdom, had placed 7 blocks on Harry's magic. Down to 6 from his Privet Drive outburst. The one which Harry had removed was placed upon him at the end of 5th year after Harry had destroyed the old man's office in a fit of rage. He had no idea how he'd not noticed the restriction of his magic but he swore to himself he'd look up protection charms so blocks and memory charms couldn't be placed upon him.

  
The other 6, were at various memorable stages of Harry's life. The first was placed on him when he was just a baby. Apparently, he'd convinced Lily and James to let him do this because he was showing high and unusual levels and control of his accidental magic. The second was placed on him before he got his Hogwarts letter. In fact, it was around the time Harry freed the snake from its confines at the zoo, leaving Dudley in its place. He snickered a little at that. The 3rd was after his rescue of the philosopher's stone, the 4th was after the chamber of secrets, the 5th was during his rage and the last one was during his confrontation with Dumbledore at Privet drive. So he'd removed a block only to gain one back, which was immensely annoying. The man could have killed him! No one was meant to put more than one block on an adult, let alone a child! It was a miracle Harry survived with what little amount of magic he had.

  
_'No matter,'_   Harry thought to himself. _'I will hide my increase of power from the old coot until I can be assured I won't be bombarded with yet more blocks.'_

  
Taking note of a door blended into the rocky and damp wall that opened, Dragonclaw beckoned with one finger for Harry to follow. Soon, they were in a small and tidy chamber. The walls were like that of the upper level of Gringotts, with no indication of how far down they both were. It was with some amount of alarm and apprehension that he was laid upon a flat surface, magical binds restricting his movements.

  
"People tend to thrash around, disrupting the flow of magic and damaging themselves." the goblin offered by way of explanation. "Just a precautionary measure, nothing to worry about."

  
"There's always something going on in my life." The teen moaned. He gestured as much as he could for the goblin to proceed.

  
A harsh, guttural sound erupted from him. Harry didn't know what language that was. It certainly sounded nothing like Gobbledegook. Speculations on what language Dragonclaw spoke was lost in that moment because the pain he was in was unbelievable.

  
It was an ache, a bone-deep one and he couldn't help the slight hiss. Soon, there was a slight tug and with it, all his nerve endings were on fire. He could feel something within his chest pulling, forcing its way out by invisible hands with no incision for it to leave. It was as though muggle dentists were operating on his teeth and removing them without the use of anaesthetic, only with his magical core.

  
He screamed, throat almost tearing. The tugging was vicious, but he could feel something give way. With one more tug, it was free and within only a few seconds the pain dulled to a slight tenderness. He could already feel his magic replenishing and it was as though he'd took a sip of Felix Felicis. His power level increased and it felt like he could do anything.

  
The bindings were released but Harry sat on the stone slab to regain his bearings.

  
"Bloody hell." He breathed. A funny noise made him look up and Dragonclaw's version of a laugh escaped him.

  
"Yes, it will do that. The tenderness will go away shortly and I recommend you burn off any excess energy you have. Go for a run, cast a few spells, anything. It will help you with control." He advised.

  
Harry nodded, standing up and shaking the goblin's hand. "Thank you for the help, I appreciate it. I'm not looking forward to getting the rest removed in the same way but by the end of it all, I reckon it's worth it. See you in 2 weeks!"

  
The goblin inclined his head slightly, watching the human go before a predatory grin lit up his face.

  
"Dumbledore won't know what hit him. This wizard shall shake up the Wizarding world and we will profit." Rubbing his hands, he left to go and annoy Griphook, his favourite pastime.

  
Harry took the goblin's advice. Once at home, he entered the basement, where a small training room was located. It had several training dummies and a closet which was much like the Room of Requirement. You stepped in and focused on what you wanted and once you left the small confines, you will appear in the space you created.

  
He spent the next few weeks in this manner. Summer was nearly at an end. To Harry's delight, once he'd brought Remus home, he was up and walking within the week with the burns slowly fading. The exercise he'd partaken in not just to burn up energy was benefitting Harry's body greatly. It made sense that with a powerful magical core, a body to match that would be advisable, for maximum efficiency. For all he'd toned up and had a lot more energy, not counting the fact that most of his blocks were now removed save for the largest one, he was still the runt of his year. Hopefully, he'd grow a bit.

  
"There's hope for you yet." Remus grinned slightly, flicking through a textbook in the library. "Your father was short as well, though he shot up several feet in his 6th year of Hogwarts."

  
Harry offered a mild glare in his direction. "Easy for you to say, you tower over me! I only come to your bloody chest."

  
"Not much different from when you were a baby then." He joked.

  
"Piss off!" Harry would later deny that he stuck his tongue out in a fit of childishness, before flipping his finger and striding out, imaginary cape billowing in the wind. Snape would be proud.

  
The man laughed. Harry was far too easy to tease sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking (I probably will do it anyway regardless) about Harry being in a relationship with an OC character. A male vampire, to be precise. I'm reading one currently and I love the idea so I might try one out of my own. It will probably start out as a friendship and work from there. Not sure, romance really isn't my strong point.


	7. Inner Animagi(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry discovers some shocking things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware of how unoriginal the names I picked are, I'm not that creative in that regard. Sorry! Either way I hope you all enjoy :)

The more time he spent conversing with Aela, the more he realised that he could speak from within his mind to her. It saved Remus from hearing a series of hisses when he was about the house and it was more convenient for Harry.

 

A lot of his spare time, he used reading various tomes found in the manor's library. One of which mentioned that to find out your animagus form, you could either take a potion or meditate to find it yourself. The stronger your magical core, the quicker success you'd have in the latter. Harry decided to meditate as it had advantages over the potion. While the potion was guaranteed to produce results if one had an animal, the wizard or witch that took on its form would gain nothing else other than the shape. Through meditation, you studied that animal's habits and got to know your chosen form more deeply. With it, you can gain traits of that animal. For example, if your form was a feline and you'd mediated and successfully transformed, chances are you would have better eyesight in the dark and heightened instincts. It varied from animal to animal but Harry felt this was the most beneficial. That and his scar didn't ache as much since meditation was somewhat similar to what Occlumency required.

 

So it was one day that after having breakfast with Remus, Harry made use of his 'Requirement Closet.' He thought deeply of what he required, stepping out.

 

Harry let his guard down and his eyes held an almost childish expression. As much as he knew he was fucked up for killing The Dursleys, it was they who moulded him into what he was, more so than Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't just the physical and mental abuse heaped upon him, it was also the fact that not once in his life was he ever exposed to the pleasures in life which a child was allowed to have, such as visiting the beach. Harry never visited the seaside or a beach of any sort, though he'd expressed a deep desire to want to. His life had been so busy recently that he'd simply never took the time to do the simple things. He vowed once most of the trouble was over, Remus and he would go for a long vacation on a beach somewhere.

 

That was what Harry had in his mind and laid out before him, it was even more wonderful. He'd removed his shoes in the training room as he knew what he wanted in that moment.

 

The sand felt so soft and warm on his bare feet, yet when he scrunched his toes together, rough with grit. It was a curious sensation and not one he was used to. The wind ruffled his tinted hair lightly. Harry had come across a spell which kept his hair in a sort of invisible stasis bubble. It was very much the same as the day he'd got it dyed and he appreciated that. It would stay there for as long as he wished it to and it barely cost anything in his magical reserves.

 

At first, the strong smell of the sea made his eyes water a little but after a few seconds, he was ok with it. He took his time, appreciating the view.

 

The sun was setting and it cast an orange glow upon the water in the distance, which was sparkling and untouched. The sands were golden and soft shadows danced upon the ground, which seemed to emphasise the natural beauty of the beach. Harry had always liked the sun setting, it promised the future and it made the past. Perhaps after the sun set, it would bring a better day? Thoughts like this were often what used to keep him going. Rising as early as he did in The Dursley household he always took the time to appreciate the view whenever he was outside, though his favourite time of the day would always be when the sun set.

 

The rippling of the water and the gentle waves lapping at the shore as he grew closer soothed Harry more than he thought possible. He decided then and there that even if he didn't have an animal form, he would come here, just to sit and think, escape for a little while.

 

He approached a large fluffy towel laid upon the sand, warmed slightly. With meditation, you could either lie down or sit. Harry didn't fancy a mouthful of sand so he'd try lying down. Getting himself into a comfortable position, he rested his arms on his torso, sinking into the depths of his mind.

 

_Harry awakened, within his mind of course. He was probably dozing lightly on the sands while he was here. He'd thought about what he wanted to discover, whatever animal form or forms (though that was practically unheard of, having more than one) is a part of him. His footsteps echoed sharply and everywhere was pitch black. He could barely see a foot in front of him and only a spotlight was cast upon his feet, ensuring he wouldn't trip over them._

_He was wary at first but realised how absurd that was. While he was aware he could be attacked within his own mind, at this point he was in a deep state of relaxation and at a secure location so chances of coming across something threatening were low, not counting any possible dangerous animagus forms he may or may not have._

_It could have been seconds, hours or minutes for all Harry knew but the darkness sure as hell wasn't getting any brighter. He wasn't aware of the passage of time and nothing indicated how long he'd been here._

_There was a change in his surroundings. As though a blindfold had been removed from his eyes, he found himself high up in the mountains, a narrow path sloping upwards, ending near a crumbling hole in the mountainside. Harry would've been convinced he was actually there, if not for the lack of breeze blowing or any signs of wildlife. The path wasn't steep, thankfully and within a few minutes, he was facing the hole, with something definitely unexpected inside._

_At first glance, it looked to be a dragon, but there were no legs to indicate this, just one huge tail to make up for the lack of limbs. Its tail was curled around the rest of its body like a serpent and much of its mannerisms were snakelike. It picked up its head slowly, slithering forward to come face to face with the stunned teen._

_On closer inspection, the scales that Harry thought were black were actually blood red. They were shiny and glistened even with him blocking a lot of the artificial sunlight. While the upper half of its body was red, the length of the body soon turned into a deep orange and ended with a golden colour. 'Like the sun setting.' Harry thought with awe. In stark contrast, the eyes had not much white and were a swirl of mercury. It was an unusual colour combination but seemed to fit the creature. Spikes and horns adorned the body, more so along the top of the head and decorating the tail. They were of varying sizes and shone dark grey. There were some upon the end of iys wings, like little claws probably used to grasp surfaces. The wings themselves were huge, almost the size of its body. The leather of its wings was a crimson colour, fading to different hues much like the scales._

_There was a little nudge. Whether it was in his mind's mind or his magic, he didn't know. It was telling him to touch the creature on the forehead. Giving into the instinct and hoping he wouldn't lose a hand, he lightly touched the scales._

_It was overwhelming at first, but soon his mind catalogued the information. It explained everything about this animal form, even down to dietary requirements though that wouldn't matter since he wasn't planning on spending all his time in that form._

_The creature was called an Amphithere. It was part dragon, part snake. They had no magical powers to speak of, with the exception of this one. It was a fire Amphithere and with it, brought some control over the element of fire, which could carry on back into human form. It spat fireballs very much like a full dragon, but it was more concentrated and less widespread flames than its relation. Since Harry was turning into one and wasn't one by birth, magical abilities were enabled._

_“Greetings, human.” The Amphithere nuzzled Harry's hand. “My name is Lume. I am one of your inner animagi. I am here for you to learn more about me, as your form and to guide you through the steps of transformation.”_

_“Wait.” Harry blinked. “One of my inner animagi, you mean there's another?”_

_“Yes.” Lume nodded, resting his head on his curled tail, looking up at Harry. It was rather adorable in a way, as adorable as a 20ft dragon serpent could be anyway. “He is your soul animagi, the one you are connected with the most. Other animals can form due to circumstances. I am here as a representation of your sorting into Gryffindor and the fires of trial you have overcome.”_

  
_“I suppose that explains all the Gryffindor colours.” Harry mused. “How often should I return and speak with you?”_

  
_“Whenever you wish. I sense your magic and it's strong. Not anywhere near its capability as you have another block to move and your majority to reach yet. It will not take long for you to transform. There are not many people who communicate with their inner animal verbally, they merely observe what they are and what they do without the inner knowledge to help. You are different, more connected with your magic than most so that allows for you to reach out more.”_

  
_Harry heard English in his mind but Lume was merely giving little growls and hisses, like Parseltongue but a bit more aggressive. Strange to say the least._

  
_Harry sat down, still marvelling at Lume. “Is there anything else I should know about you?”_

  
_“One thing.” Here he stood up, springing on his tail and suddenly, limbs sprouted into existence and his tail shrank. He huffed a little, flames spouting from his nose. “You can change your form at will, whether for land or sky though we are suited to the air more. Don't try and outrun anything in this form, you won't get far.”_

  
_“If all else fails, I'll just roast them.” Harry declared. Lume gave his version of an eye roll before closing said eyes, laying down upon the rocky surface again. “As I say, feel free to return when you wish. Your soul animagi, Thanatos, wants to meet you. He and I speak but really we're rather incompatible. He's your Slytherin side you see.”_

_Harry shrugged. “Some things never change.”_

  
_“Indeed.” Lume still had his eyes closed. If he was able to, he would've made a shooing motion. “Off with you now, the bloody idiot is impatient enough as it is. Do stop by for a chat soon. Farewell!”_

  
_As the world around him faded to be replaced with another, Harry had barely recovered from his first animagi form, let alone knowing he had more than one. “Lume was polite, must be the more reserved side of Gryffindors.” He snorted before his surroundings made his jaw drop._

  
_While the mountain scenery was very nice, the place he was currently in was otherworldly, quite literally. What looked to be souls and wisps fluttered in the non-existent breeze. Faint outlines of humanoid spirits could be seen in the distance. Some were conversing and others were simply sat, not doing much of anything. The ground was hard and lined with cracks of immense strain, the earth blackened from thunderstorms. Turrets and towers with a strange purple fire hovered above them. Some of the turrets had broken away and remained suspended in the air with nothing to ground them, like little individual islands. Not a sign of life as he knew it was present. Any trees were withered and rotting. A dark fog hung in the air, which would be chilling if he were there in person. It was beautiful, in a morbid way. Harry liked it. It soothed a part of his soul, the one which yearned for the revenge, the murder of the Dursleys and sprung up a memory, one of a long time ago._

  
_Clip-clopping sounds from behind made him turn around and he couldn't help but gasp at what he saw._

_Thanatos, even without Harry touching him, was a skeletal horse. His bones were a polished black and a fine smoky mist shrouded them. Where there would be hair on a horse which was alive, there was not. In place of the mane and tail, a green fire crackled and hissed threateningly, swaying much like what hair would do. Harry realised with shock_ _that while it looked like fire, it very much represented Avada Kedavra curses if they were fired in rapid succession, clustering together to create one hypnotising sight. His eyes matched his own, flames within eyeless sockets. He should be scared, but Thanatos was a fine creature._

  
_Tentatively, he held out a hand and the horse obliged, nose touching it._

_He was not recreated by the likes of necromancy, though. Souls inhabited the underworld. Humans, animals, they all occupied one place. Rarely, a soul has the chance to be reborn in that of a skeleton and live to roam the underworld with its kind, if any more existed at that time. Thanatos was in every sense of the word, death. There were no more of his kind at the moment, he remained the final one._

_“Who was he calling a bloody idiot?” Thanatos snorted indignantly. “Stupid overgrown scaly twit.” Harry coughed to hide his laugh. “Forgive me.” He bent his front legs in a bow, inclining his head slightly. “Lume is annoying at the best of times, but that you have already discovered. You know who I am and how I came to be, so there isn't really much more I can tell you other than to communicate with me as you would Lume. There is only one thing I need mention. I was created the moment the killing curse marked you with that scar. Death has tainted you, in more ways than one. The man who marked you left a part of him behind. That part was his soul. I am your soul animagi, as you know. I have a connection and the piece of his soul is battling for dominance with my rightful place. If not removed, it will overpower me. The killing curse never dissipated. It was absorbed into your very being, hence my existence.”_

  
_“Woah Woah back up a minute!” Harry held his hands out. “You mean to tell me I have a bit of Voldemort inside? That's disgusting. Don't worry I'm going to get rid of him.”_

  
_“Good.” He nodded in approval. “It is nice to finally converse with you and I know Lume agrees. Though I have been around for approximately a decade more than he, he made for interesting_ _company while we waited for you to connect with us. Now that you're here, we can finally connect with you fully. Upon transformation, our instincts and abilities will be absorbed into your form. We will be a part of you and you will be a part of us. There is a chance what you have in your forms may carry over to when you are human, it depends on the creature. I am unsure what you will gain from me, Lume is much more obvious.”_

  
_“I understand. If I'd known you guys were here I would've connected a lot sooner.”_

_“You would not have been able to connect before your magical blocks were removed. Though it is only meditation, your reserves at that point were low. Between us, we channel a high amount of magical energy and if you had found us before this point, it's likely magical exhaustion would have woken you up from meditation, sending you into unconsciousness. It's ok now, though, you have enough energy to spend as long as you may wish here,”_

_Harry hesitated before asking the question that had just popped into his mind. “If I'm able to complete the transformation soon enough, will the soul piece battling for dominance become dormant?”_

  
_He tilted his head. “I believe so.” He agreed. “I don't think it will take you long before you are able to learn. For now, though I am more than a match for it.”_

  
_Harry didn't answer, deep in thought. For him, it was a lot to process and he was sure he'd have to think about it before it all sunk in. Not only did he have one incredible animagi form, but 2 and both were magical creatures! It was certainly an interesting development, to say the least. More time passed by as he talked away the seemingly endless time with Thanatos. He learned a lot about his personality and with time he was sure he'd learn more about the both of them. He bid him goodbye, willing himself to wake up._

  
Harry woke with a sudden start, confirming to himself that yes what happened was indeed real and no it wasn't a dream. He sat up, popping joints as he did so.

  
 _ **“Have fun?”**_   Aela hissed from his back. She preferred it there, more space. He couldn't blame her. _**“Your magic was ssporadic and ssshifted sslightly. The taste was rather ssstrange.”**_

  
 _ **“I think that was meeting 2 of my animagi, they're literally polar opposites,”**_ Harry told her. _ **“I still can't believe it.”**_

  
Harry sprang to his feet, sprinting back to the closet door and shutting it behind him.

  
It was with no amount of shock that while he'd left 8 am this morning, it was now 10 pm at night. 14 hours it had taken! It certainly didn't feel like it.

 

Harry grinned, excitement bubbling up before he could try and stop it. Leaving his shoes, for now, he went in search of Remus, the man would faint.

 

“REMUS! YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED!” He shouted, cupping hands around his mouth.

 

Harry would bet the total worth of his vaults on that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed that I've taken inspiration from Skyrim in this chapter and a previous chapter for Harry's unregistered wand. I couldn't resist. I love that game :D


	8. Fun Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has the time of his life, plus friendships are lost and unwavering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've settled on a weekly schedule of a chapter roughly every Tuesday. I'm crap at keeping to that though so apologies in advance, I'll do my best!

“You've got to be joking. You mean to tell me that not only do you have one form, but 2 and they're both magical? Your life is never normal on any level is it?” Remus shook his head, amusement soon giving way to shock.

 

Harry couldn't help but agree, silently glad that Remus did actually believe him, though his belief would be solid once Harry was able to complete the transformations. He thought for a second about mentioning what Thanatos had told him, the reason why he was so linked to Voldemort but decided not to. He didn't want to cause the man unnecessary worry. Also, he needed to find out more information. What if Voldemort didn't stop at one? He was pretty sure he didn't stop by Harry's crib for a cup of tea and a dunk of soul. So yes, he'd keep this to himself until he knew more about it. Once he was sure, then he could think about telling him.

  
He almost felt guilty that at the time, he was asleep and Harry was running about like a stampeding herd of Hippogriffs. His guilt quickly went away though because Remus looked ecstatic to learn of this recent development.

  
“Whichever form I learn first, I could accompany you when you go to transform?” Harry offered. I don't think you would hurt me and it's not as if either of those forms is defenceless. It can't be easy on you, I've seen the deep scratches and if I can help with the pain I'd be more than happy to. Instead of you going out into the woods we can use my closet in the training room, find a nice place for you to run and eventually me when I learn.”

  
He smiled warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, I think I'd like that.” There was gratitude in his tone.

  
Grinning, Harry stood up. “Brilliant! Oh yeah, I have 2 Marauder names now.” Seeing the curiosity in the other man's gaze, he elaborated. “Both animagi have names. The Amphithere is named Lume, the skeletal horse Thanatos.”

  
“Ahh.” Remus nodded, barely restraining a yawn.

  
“Right I'll bugger off now. Night.” Harry chuckled, retiring to his own room.

  
Harry couldn't help but feel a little worried that in time, he'd be off to Hogwarts again. Dumbledore was bound to have someone follow him there after he'd 'Turned into a dark wizard.' so he'd have to see about casting one or two more charms to protect himself, one of the most important ones to defend against any tracking spells which might be placed. He had every intention of going down to the chamber and hopefully, Aela would miraculously rise from the dead, though he was unsure how he'd go about this.

  
His second worry was he wouldn't have much time to converse with Lume and Thanatos. He knew speaking with them was the easiest step, the hardest would be to actually complete the transformations. With time, he would come to memorise every little detail about the pair. He found himself wondering that when they became a part of him if he would gain some of their personality traits as well as physical aspects? It was certainly something to think on.

  
It was a few hours into sleep that Harry was suddenly jolted awake with a moment of clarity. If he could imagine anything in the requirement closet, then why not a place where time passes in the place that he's chosen, but not in the real world? Something, where hours were mere minutes or even better, time, would run smoothly at the beach and when he stepped out, no time had passed at all. After getting a few hours more sleep, he vowed he would try.

  
To Harry's delight, it had worked. He focused on the beach he was at yesterday, but also that the time flow was removed from the current one. It was a bit difficult at first but once there, he experimentally made a sandcastle, which he estimated must have taken around half an hour. Stepping from the closet, he cast a quick tempus. It was the same time as when he'd disappeared. This opened a huge door of opportunity for him and when he went to Hogwarts, he could use the room of requirement for the same purposes.

  
He spent almost all of his time at Paradise, as he'd affectionately named the beach. For many hours, which turned into days and weeks, he conversed with the pair until he was brimming with confidence from the inside out. He found out little details as well which he'd overlooked from the rush of information. Lume was able to secrete a substance from where the sweat glands would be, which burned very much like acid and became more potent if he felt threatened. Thanatos had voice magic. With a powered neigh, he could stun his enemies until he chose to revive them. Harry had woken up with a bump on his head with the force he'd hit the ground. The horse got too excited and discovered what his voice could do. It was good to know really. There was good-natured bickering between the two who occasionally Harry spoke to side by side at the same time. It was with no small amount of amusement that he sat back and just listened. Lume tended to offend quickly and Thanatos knew how to press his buttons.

 

By Harry's estimation, it had been about 2 months. So his body didn't deteriorate, he often exercised or went for jogs on the beach, sometimes going for a swim. Though most of his time was spent with the 2 inner animagi, he couldn't deny he felt differently even before transforming. The meditation had increased his natural mind shielding. The mountains and underworld became such a familiar refuge, that often they would appear as his mind's defences. It was unintentional, but by no means a bad thing. He became slow to anger and when he was angry, it was a lot more silent. He could control his outbursts of anger more and choose when to 'blow up.' as he called it. It was a more deadly, Slithering kind of calm. All in all, it was a good change for him. He had every intention of rebelling and plotting but on the outside, he would abide by the rules at Hogwarts like a good little Gryffindor, until the time came. Snape would piss himself. If only he knew.

  
After a most amusing conversation between Lume and Thanatos of who Harry liked more, he awakened, with a bout of determination. Further reading on the subject along with the animagi's explanations gave Harry clear instructions. He decided the hardest of the two, Lume, would be his first try. He'd brought a change of clothes in case he failed to imagine those blending in with his form, though a simple reparo should do the trick.

  
Harry kneeled upon the sand, wearing a loose pair of black slacks and a green tank top. He was pleased to note the muscles he'd developed. He'd be never the muscle man of course, but Harry was thankful for what he had.

  
Focusing fully, he let his mind do what was natural. He didn't in any way force himself to transform. He thought back to all the times he'd seen Lume.

  
He was huffing a laugh, batting his wing playfully. He took off into the sky with a screech, flying and twirling for Harry's benefit. His long tail slashed through the air like a quill on parchment. His silver eyes sparkled with life and his scales were vibrant beneath the sun. The horns shined almost to a polish beneath the glaze, shifting colours as the shade covered him. He opened his mouth, long teeth revealed as a deep red fireball was spat, crumbling and burning the rock.

  
All this and more, Harry let himself be filled with his emotions until it was not just Lume, Lume was him. He was the one flying through the air, spitting fire, swishing his tail. He envisioned himself shifting. Body increasing in size, tail sprouting, wings appearing, bone structure and species itself changing.

  
He noticed a tingling and his eyes had fallen shut without him realising. He was startled but quickly pushed past that, letting what he wanted to happen to fill his mind, encouraging it with his knowledge and how right it would feel.

  
Suddenly, it was happening. The feeling was very disorienting and with no small amount of pain. He gritted his teeth, letting the transformation happen. Within his mind, he heard voices.

  
“Hah! Thanatos, you owe me a few spirits in return for this, I won the bet!”

  
“Humph. Fine.”

  
“Oh don't be like that old chap, you'll be joining me soon. Farewell, for now, I'm off to bond with Harry.”

  
A farewell whinny in response.

  
They were betting on him. Really? He snorted. He expected no less from the pair. The snort wasn't without its consequences, however, as flames spouted from his nose. He went to rub his snout but overbalanced. He forgot he had no limbs and the closest he had been his arms which were also his wings.

  
A brief flash of magic accompanied the final transformation before Lume merged with his animagi mind. Instincts became natural to him now, not needing to be learned. Lume would always be within his mind and Thanatos his soul when he transformed, but now Harry shared his instincts.

  
“Fantastic!” Harry shouted in excitement or tried to. A series of hisses and growls accompanied his attempt. Oh well. After a moment's thought, a huge mirror appeared before him. He knew what he looked like even in his sleep but still, it was much better to see it with his own eyes.

  
After a roar of triumph, he spent his remaining time getting to know how his body worked, practising flight and attacks with his tail. It was the best he could do and it would no doubt become useful in a fighting situation. He wondered if he could harvest ingredients from either of his forms? It would be excellent for potions and he actually wasn't bad at the subject, once he was somewhere without the greasy miserable bat looming above him, waiting for him to royally fuck up so he could remove points and call him a bloody idiot. Oh, he'd show him. Snape wasn't going to get away with this, not after what he helped do to Remus. Bastard.

  
He growled and it sounded quite menacing in this form. He grinned, teeth shining. Oh, what he wouldn't do to roast a few deserving arses.

  
He transformed back, happy that his clothes were intact. Though reparo was fine it reduced the quality of the clothing a little.

  
It was sometime later before he transformed into Thanatos, which he found easier after bringing forth similar experiences and memories. Like with Lume, Thanatos melded with his animagi mind and galloping across the golden sands was perhaps just as fun as flight. Wanting to test the neigh for himself, Harry imagined a few humanoid objects.

  
A cloud of dust and sand rose into the air, making him sneeze. The same fire in his eyes and across his mane and tail shot from his nose, impacting one with exploded violently. Nearly overbalancing from the force, he winced a little or as much as one could as a horse.

  
_'Well shit. Note to self, do not sneeze in this form.'_   Mental note made, Harry shouted. He presumed his voice with power behind it would produce the same effect. To him, the neigh was like a shout, but he could feel the waves of magic. Nothing happened. He frowned. Perhaps he had to think of what he wanted to happen?

  
“NEEEIGH!”

  
That worked. The remaining targets dropped to the ground with a muffled whump.

  
_'Wicked.'_   Harry thought.

  
He loved both Lume and Thanatos equally and they would both be invaluable. While he could use Lume to go with Remus, Thanatos could run alongside the wolf and would be much better companionship. He did much the same in this form as he did in the last. He got to know both forms on an instinctual level and he was confident of the time it took for him to change back and forth and he was used to their mannerisms and the different body shape.

  
After much deciding, it was time he went back. It's not as if he couldn't return. The next full moon was on August 18th. It was with no small amount of surprise that he'd been at Evergreen Manor since the 5th of August, a few days after his birthday, not counting the space he was in where the passage of time didn't flow the same. Before he made the decision to come here, everything else seemed to happen unbelievably fast. It was almost overwhelming in the intensity. Shaking his head from those thoughts, he trudged back over to the door, creaking it open and stepping back inside the manor for the first time in a while.

  
He found Remus reading the newspaper. He looked up at Harry's approach.

  
“That was fast, I thought you said you were going into the training room?”

  
“I have.” Harry scratched the back of his head.

  
He narrowed his eyes a little. “You look different, somehow. You smell different too. Strange.”

  
Harry quirked an eyebrow, taking the seat across from him. “Strange how?”

  
He sniffed a little, furrowing his brow. “There's the distinct smell of you, with undertones of cinnamon and...liquorice? What on earth have you been doing Harry?”

  
Said emerald-eyed boy blinked. 'Cinnamon and Liquorice? Must be Lume and Thanatos he can smell. Weird, though, why that one?' He pondered for a moment, looking back at him.

  
“Actually Remus, I've been gone for 2 months. Hang on a minute.” He quirked his lip in amusement as Remus' protest died on his lips. “I figured the room's limits was only my imagination. One night and woke up and thought, 'Why not try to ask the room to separate the passing of time from the real world into a different one?' so when I went in there, time would pass but would remain the same once I left. I checked to see if it had worked, using the time to build a sandcastle.” He ignored Remus' resulting snort. “Half an hour had passed where I was. When I left, no time had passed at all. I spent that time doing more of the same and something else.”

  
“What's that?” The man tilted his head curiously.

  
Harry grinned, tilting on his chair. “Think old wolfy old pal. Why would I suddenly have 2 distinct smells and what did I just discover the other day?”

  
His eyes widened and sparkled brightly. “You mean?” He trailed off.

  
Harrys' expression must have given something away because, with a burst of energy, he sprang up from the kitchen chair, taking Harry's wrist in his hand.

  
“What are you waiting for? Don't keep said old wolf waiting, I want to see!”

  
Laughing heartily at his excitement, Harry obliged, thinking to quickly cast a few protection spells in case a stray fireball or two accidentally slipped out.

  
They came to a large clearing, away from the manor. There were trees in sight but not close enough that he'd bump into them as Lume.

  
He turned to Remus expectantly, an anticipatory gleam in his eye. “So, who first?”

  
Remus smiled, his excitement still evident. “Lume.”

  
Harry nodded and instantly, was much, much bigger.

  
“Bloody hell.” He breathed, coming closer to the Amphithere. “I know you've told me in great detail but it's even better seeing it in person.” He brought a hand up to the metallic scales and patted his snout. Harry butted his snout against his hand and Remus chuckled. He laughed harder when he tried to bat eyelashes and blow kisses to Remus and it looked absolutely comical in this form.

  
Harry bent his body slightly, a wing tilted towards him and shot Remus a pleading look.

  
He looked from Harry to his wing and understood. “You want me to ride you.” He queried, unsure.

  
Harry nodded vigorously, the jerky movement producing smoke from his nostrils.

  
“I don't know.” Remus was torn. On one hand, he'd love to be able to see the view from up here without the initial discomfort of a broom. On the other hand, what if he fell off?

  
His internal debate ended when the reptilian face before him pouted. Actually pouted. He looked so cute Remus couldn't say no.

  
“Ok, but if I fall off I'm blaming you.” Smirking a little at Harry's bounce of excitement, he clambered upon the scales, getting comfortable and holding onto one of the larger horns on his neck. There were none down his back, merely the head, neck, tail and wings. He nearly let ago in his fear when Harry swooped into the sky.

  
It took him several moments to get used to the sensation but once he was, he couldn't help the whoop of joy. It was the most exhilarating feeling, he hadn't been on a broom in years to fly and didn't have the desire to. Riding on an Amphithere was a chance he couldn't pass up and he was having the time of his life. A few times he dared to remove his hands and stretch them either side. The adrenalin rush was incredible and not even half of what Harry felt.

  
Harry was also having the time of his life, more so than usual because he just knew Remus would have fun up here. He didn't do his usual swoops and aerial tricks he'd learned from watching Lume and some of his own, wary of the passenger on his back. He felt so free, much like when he galloped across the sands as Thanatos. Though he had fun, flying beat running any day. It was several minutes before Harry gently lowered to the ground, careful not to overbalance Remus. The man got off and Harry quickly transformed back.

  
He looked years younger, the worry lines seemed to have melted off his face and his grin matched Harry's. “That was bloody fantastic!” He crowed, still on an adrenaline high.

  
“See? I knew you'd enjoy it!” Harry gave him the 'I told you so.' look.

  
Rolling his eyes, he looked at Harry expectantly.

  
“Want to ride Thanatos too?” He asked.

  
Remus shrugged. “Why not? Isn't every day you get to ride a horse of death."

  
Harry laughed, eyes twinkling. “Too true.”

  
He felt the familiar sensation of shifting bones, muscles and thought processes. It hurt like hell the first time for both his forms but now it was merely a tingle.

  
A mischievous look entered Remus' eyes. “If only you were here during the Marauder days. Sirius and James would have never passed up the chance to make the firsties wet themselves. You're very intimidating you know. Handsome fellow too.” He winked.

  
Harry reared his head proudly. He didn't need a human to tell him that! Oh.

  
Well, that was definitely Thanatos' thoughts, not his.

  
Giving a mental shrug, the two spent several hours outside, Harry not only giving Remus a few rides but demonstrating some abilities he had.

  
The 2 were sated and more than happy. Harry was aching a little from all the flying and running he did. While Remus retired to the library, Harry couldn't pass up the chance to have a shower. It was with no small amount of relief that the warm water hit his aching muscles, easing the pain. He was content and very relaxed when he opened the bedroom door, intending to sleep.

  
Spotting the owl heading for his window, it looked as though it would have to wait. Opening the window so it wouldn't do a Pigwidgeon, he didn't recognise the owl. It was a common brown speckled one so it was probably one of the wizarding post owls.

  
Hedwig was off hunting, so the owl gratefully made use of the water and food set out in the corner, taking flight once more.

  
He was surprised by the envelope. It wasn't written on parchment, the envelope was definitely muggle, as was the letter itself. He had an idea who it was from and scanning the contents, his suspicions were proven correct. He returned his eyes to the top of the page, reading properly.

  
_Harry,_

_How are you? I'm so sorry I haven't written to you sooner! You see I would have, but I had to send this one on the sly. Let me explain._

_I found out about you and your relatives and I want you to know it doesn't change my opinion on you any, you're still my best friend. I know how badly they treated you and death is the very least that they deserve. I know you may be surprised at this but after the events of the ministry and what had happened recently, I have found myself placing less and less trust in the people who are supposed to protect us and more in the fact that they are completely incompetent._

  
Harry agreed, they were definitely that and so much more.

  
_After those events, we made use of Fred and George's extendable ears. The whole time Dumbledore was claiming that you had gone dark and joined Voldemort. Myself, Ginny, Fred and George all thought, excuse my French, that it was complete and utter Hippogriff shite._

_You may notice that I didn't mention Ron. The idiot believed what Dumbledore was saying! We tried to tell him otherwise but he blew up and stormed off. It's sad that after so many years of friendship, it's come to this. I don't want to pick between you but Harry when it comes down to it, it's you I'll always stand by. Dumbledore forbade us to contact you but while we were out purchasing our school things, I snuck into the wizarding post office and sent this letter here._

_I don't know how postal services work but your address didn't show up at all. My only explanation is that postal owl gets an imprint of your location in mind by the name and somehow manages to locate you, though I'm not sure how that works. I would have written to you the normal way but I don't know your address._

_If you get this letter, please send one back if only to let me know how you're doing._

_Hermione_

_P. S-Keep an eye on Ron. He's been acting strange and I've heard him have a few whispered conversations with Dumbledore and I don't trust what's going on._

  
Harry was shocked but definitely pleased. A bit angry too. He was wondering why his friends hadn't contacted him. The wards enabled anything which wasn't harmful access. He wasn't sure how secure that system was but it had worked so far. Hermione was his closest friend and while he cared for her, her unwavering faith in authority often blinded her to the bigger picture. Since they'd last spoken though it seemed that part of her and withered and died and she had a healthy amount of suspicion. He wasn't sure who he could trust after his blow up at The Dursleys and he was glad one member of the golden trio was on his side.

  
He would look into Ron. Out of everyone, he was saddened to release that he wasn't surprised by Ron's opinion. Over the years his loyalty only extended to the point where it was just below his jealousy, the worst being when he accused Harry of putting his name into the goblet, wanting fame and glory and not telling his supposed best mate how to. Harry thought that from there, the friendship was cracking and this had permanently removed it. He had his suspicions about Ron speaking with Dumbles, as the old man was manipulative. He vowed to find out what was going on.

  
He had a lot to think on and he was appreciative of Hermione still willing to remain in his life. It was great to have Remus, the only father figure in his life but it was also good to have someone his own age he could confide in too.

  
He penned a quick response, doing the usual hexes so that anyone else intending to read it before Hermione would get a nasty shock.

  
_Hermione,_

_Great to hear from you! Just to let you know that I'm very happy here and I will speak more with you about the letter and where I am in person._

_I hope you survive at Grimmauld Place without me because God only knows what shit Dumbles is spouting now. Take care,_

_Harry_

  
It was at that moment Hedwig returned from her hunting. He was sure the owl was psychic. After he watched her wolf down a mouse in morbid fascination and she drank some water from the bowl on the side table, she gave a little hoot and Harry tied the letter to her leg, stroking her feathers with the back of his hand. She nipped at his ear in her way of affection. He noted that it was dark outside and it had begun to rain a little.

  
Shutting the window, he pulled out a clean pair of silk pyjamas. They felt amazing on his skin and better than the starched material provided at Hogwarts that made his balls chafe. Changing into them, he rested his head on the pillow and was out like a light.


	9. Running Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanatos and Moony have a head to head race. Who will win?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so biased, I love Remus to death and I couldn't help but write a further bonding moment, this time in their animal forms. Like an interlude chapter really :P I've kept it as light hearted and fun as possible, even when it comes to writing some sort of war chapter I'll probably stick something amusing in, I can't seem to stay Sirius for long ;)

It was an hour before the full moon, and Harry admitted to himself that he was nervous for what was to come. The last time he'd encountered a werewolf was the same one he was now spending time with, though back then he was a snotty teen with no sense of self-preservation who threw himself into danger for the sake of protecting others. Some things never change, really. Although this time Remus had actually taken the Wolfsbane potion and Harry had an animagus form so things didn't go down the drain quickly. Harry had shat himself when Moony came after them and it was only due to Hermione that the wolf didn't use his claws to pick Harry and the others from between his teeth.

 

He'd like to think that 3 years down the line, he was a lot better off and less ignorant than he had been. Though he was nervous, he was equally excited too. Tales of The Marauders and their quest to become animagi to support their wolf friend in his time of need always got Harry thinking about if The Golden Trio did something similar.

 

 _'It's more like The Golden Duo now.'_   He sighed sadly. He figured Ron was a lost cause, with all he heard but until he saw it with his own eyes he would try and patch whatever fragments of friendship had been shattered in the past few weeks. Or months, depending on how you looked at it.

 

Harry had made the suggestion that he and Remus go into the Requirement Closet now. He'd packed a basket full of food for them to eat while waiting the last hour and they were currently sat on a cushioned bench which overlooked fields upon fields of lush greenery, with wood life and trees to either side of them. He let Remus choose what he wanted, Harry was more than happy to just provide the company.

 

“You didn't have to do this you know.” Remus looked at Harry, sipping his Butterbeer.

 

The teen took a long drink of his own, green eyes glittering in the night. “I wanted to. Not just to support you but what's the fun in having animagus forms if I don't use them?”

 

“Good point.” He admitted, before jerking lightly as a spasm of pain swept across his body. Couldn't be long now, his muscles always seemed to cramp and tense in preparation for his ordeal. It had been much worse since Sirius died, even before The Marauders had joined him during the full moon. Moony was still pining for his mate and when he couldn't find him, tore and bit into his skin with a vicious ferocity and Remus usually woke up looking like he'd been attacked by Death Eaters. With Harry here, he had some hope that Moony would ease up a little. Harry was their cub after all.

 

Harry's brow furrowed. “You ok?” He asked, placing his bottle on the ground to shift Remus' back to him. He placed his hands on his shoulder blades, rubbing the tension and trying to ease the numerous knots which would make the transformation more painful.

 

“This usually happens, I'll be fine.” He groaned in pleasure. “You're a wizard, Harry.”

 

Harry removed his hand to cover his mouth as he burst into laughter.

 

Remus looked back in confusion. “What did I say?”

 

After he got his breaths under control and resumed his kneading, he elaborated. “It's just that those were the same words Hagrid spoke to me when I first found out I was a wizard. Did I ever tell you that story?”

 

Seeing a shake of his head, Harry quickly explained as he realised there were 15 minutes until the moon was upon them.

 

“I kept getting acceptance letters from Hogwarts. At first, they came through the mail, but because I'd never opened my letter, Vernon prevented me from reading it by burning and other means, more and more owls each day showed up with a copy of it. They appeared in the bathroom, even in a carton of eggs rolled up. It got to the point where he boarded up the letterbox and shut the windows. He was rubbing his hands in glee because there was no post on Sundays when suddenly an avalanche of letters poured out of the fireplace from the chimney. That was the final straw in the end. Vernon moved from the house and we ended up going to a hut on the sea, thinking that nothing could reach us there. On the night of my birthday as it struck midnight, Hagrid knocked down the door and apologised, giving me my first birthday cake and telling me about how I was a wizard. Dudley started eating my cake and Hagrid gave him a pig's tail, the best day of my life that was. He had to go to a muggle surgeon to remove it.” He grinned. “Vernon tried to stop me from going but Hagrid was taking no bullshit. Vernon had a shotgun and Hagrid bent the end, threatening him for insulting Dumbledore, though these days I agree with Vernon, much as it pains me to admit it, he really is a crackpot old fool. So that was my introduction to magic! Hagrid helped me in Diagon Alley too.” He finished.

 

“Wow.” Remus shook his head, rolling his shoulders to crack them. “Do I want to know what happened in your first and second year?”

 

Shrugging, he smiled. “Story for another day, because Moony number 2 is making an appearance.”

 

“Very funny.” Remus rolled his eyes, shoving Harry's shoulder affectionately.

 

The moon rose above the clouds and Harry quickly packed away the basket with a wave of his wand, setting it aside for later, moving a few feet away. Now he was Thanatos, he watched Remus transform, not remembering much from his 3rd year due to the blind panic.

 

Remus groaned. Harry really was a wizard with those hands and though he knew it would help during his transformation, he probably wouldn't be able to tell much. It was at that point Remus quickly shed his clothing, as he could feel the moon dance upon his skin as he shivered lightly. He didn't notice Harry politely averting his eyes, waiting until fur covered the essential bits.

 

Then the burning, stretching pain began. Muscles and flesh tearing open only to reform upon a skeletal structure, which snapped, cracked and welded back together to create a canine for the night.

 

Remus' scream soon turned to a low, keening howl. Fur sprouted upon his lanky, shaggy body and he wagged his tail eagerly. Where was Padfoot? He whined in confusion. Where was his mate?

 

He bounded about, strong legs propelling him forward. He howled to the sky when he wasn't there, growling at the intruder, amber eyes narrowed, teeth bared.

 

He sniffed the air, cocking his head. He was familiar. He wasn't Padfoot but he was an important member of the pack, he could smell him.

 

Thanatos stood as still as he could, letting the wolf approach and sniff him out of his own accord. Best not to startle him until he was familiar with the reassuring sense of Harry underneath the distinct smell of the death horse.

 

It took a few seconds of dedicated sniffing before a light bulb went off in Moony's head. It was Harry, their cub!

 

His attitude changed immediately and he resembled more of an overgrown puppy than a fierce stalker in the full moonlight. His tail wagged furiously as he rested his front paws forward, arse wiggling in the air and ready to play. His eyes screamed a challenge as he took off running, weaving between the dense trees.

 

Accepting the challenge, Thanatos decided to play things smart, settling for a light run until the trees cleared out a little, leaving some running room. Leaves danced upon the midnight breeze and the wind ruffled his mane. The only sounds piercing the quiet of the night were the 2 animal and animagi friends racing each other to a destination unknown, paws thumping the ground with an intense speed and hooves clopping to match.

 

Thanatos had the distinct advantage of endurance on his side. While Moony had increased endurance, Horses were born and bred to gallop across far distances with nothing taxing their muscles too much. He decided to conserve his energy until things cleared up a bit.

 

They came across a fairly wide stretch of river, not too deep. Thanatos gained the slight lead as Moony stumbled upon the slippery rocks beneath the water while he simply jumped over them, hooves splashing the water.

 

Thanatos and Harry were both in a euphoric state. It was good to let his animagus form out for a run as he could feel the restlessness deep within him. Moony looked to be having the time of his life, tongue lolling and matching his speed very well.

 

It was then the path cleared up and trees were on either side of them instead of in their way. Sensing an end, Thanatos increased his speed, the fire in his eyes glowing brighter and his mane and tail illuminating the darkness, outshining the moon. To his surprise, he could see in the distance the same stretch of land they had been sat at, only from the opposite side. The area they were in must have looped.

 

Thanatos skidded to a halt, triumphant as the wolf lagged behind in speed since he'd been running full pelt all the way.

 

Thanatos turned to Moony, inclining his head.

 

 _'A good run, my friend.'_   Harry/Thanatos thought.

 

Thanatos was able to connect with Moony's animal mind, though he couldn't respond back with words. Instead, he received in return a series of images and emotions which conveyed his feelings the same as words would.

 

After another hour or so of running about, Harry dared to transform back, ready to bolt in an instant if things went wrong. To his credit, Moony merely blinked, trotting to Harry so he could put his big furry face in his and try to lick it to death.

 

“God, the Wolfsbane really does tame you doesn't it?” He chuckled, before scratching the wolf softly behind his ears. He lay down appreciating Harry's warmth and he sat there, stroking Moony's back until soft snores alerted him that he was asleep. Harry shortly decided to follow suit, already looking forward to the next full moon.

 

Movement beside Harry woke him up and he turned to see what the disturbance was, realising too late.

 

“Remus!” He squeaked, summoning his clothes, trying desperately to hide his embarrassment. He practically threw them at the man, before turning his head to provide some privacy. ”I forgot about that.”

 

“Nothing I have that you don't Harry.” Amusement coloured his tone.

 

“Grey Pubes.” Harry coughed to disguise the words.

 

“What was that?” Remus asked sweetly.

 

“Nothing!” Harry widened his eyes, looking innocent.

 

Snorting, Remus shook his head. “You forget I have superior hearing Harry, I'll get you back for that one, cheeky sod.” He knuckled Harry's head, drawing him in for a quick embrace. “Thanks for being here, it means a lot. It's been the best night since Padfoot was here.” He trailed his fingers where Harry's tattoo was, eyes in the past.

 

He placed a hand on his shoulder. “I care for you and there aren't many people I can safely say that for, one of the alive ones being Hermione.”

 

“How is Hermione anyway?” Remus asked as they gathered their things to travel back home.

 

“She's fine far as I know, she had to sneak a letter because Dumbledore told my friends to not contact me. He told everyone I've gone dark but no one believed him except for Ron. Dumbledore has been talking to him privately apparently and I'll have to keep an eye on him.” A sad look passed over his face. “5 years of friendship over just like that. I'll try and see if there's anything I can do but I don't think Ron will listen to reason as Dumbledore has his hooks firmly embedded into him.”

 

“It's his loss, you're a fine young man Harry. Your parents would be proud of who you've become, Sirius too.”

 

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

 

And no more needed to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Chapter Title-Powerwolf did a cover of a song from that album, it's called Riding The Storm. Anyone who is a fan of Power Metal will definitely like it!


	10. A New Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before his inevitable return to Hogwarts, Harry decides to visit a place which he has been interested in for a while, particularly upon learning how much of fiction was actually true once he came from the Muggle world to the Wizarding world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how the hell I deserve over 7,000 hits but I appreciate it so much, I truly don't think my writing warrants as much positivity as I've received but I'm enjoying trying to think outside the box with this :) (Side note-I am actually posting these on a Tuesday but after 00:00am. Still registers it as Monday unfortunately so I have to change the time later :P)

It was 2 days after the full moon, and Harry fancied touring somewhere. He had something specific in mind. It was a special place, as no Muggles were allowed to tour it, due to its danger and exposure to magic and wards were placed so they would not notice it. As far as the non-magic users knew, Dracula's castle had been burned to the ground centuries ago by a Vampire-hating mob.

  
Since entering the Wizarding world, Harry had done his best to learn about different magical creatures and other magic users, such as Vampires. They had their own magic of course and were much different to their muggle Vampire counterparts. They were stronger, magically resistant and superior. Muggles often didn't survive the turning, same with Werewolves. Harry was very interested in the history and culture of them and exploring a castle, not even many wizards bothered to tour let alone Muggles if they could, held a certain appeal for him.

  
It was one day after locating the International Portkey Service in Diagon Alley that Harry decided to go take a look for himself. The chance to learn was too much to pass up. He decided to bring a light cloak with him, considering Transylvania was known for its hot summers and cold winters. The cloak itself had the Potter and Black crests Emblazoned across the fabric and the clasp was an elegant Celtic looking knot with a red stone in the middle. He picked out a dark red T-Shirt, fitted jeans and his comfortable dragon hide boots to wear. He placed essentials in his backpack and wore his cloak, for now, double checking his blood glamour and waving goodbye to Remus. Harry stepped outside, apparating on the spot.

  
It was a simple sign really. Harry looked above and saw it attached to the side of the building, swinging in the breeze on its rusty hinges. It read 'International Portkey Service.' Stepping in, a tall and casually dressed man greeted him at the desk he walked to.

  
“Good evening sir, what can I do for you?” He enquired.

  
Harry studied him for a short moment. “Would I be able to purchase a 2-way Portkey which drops me off at the Portkey service branch in Transylvania, Romania? I'm hoping to tour Dracula's castle.”

  
The man paled visibly. “O-of course sir, I will get you one immediately.” The man practically ran to the door behind him, before Harry could pick up on frantic whispering and wild arm gestures through the doors darkened window. What was that all about? He shrugged, waiting a few minutes.

 

The man returned with a Tennis ball. “Tap this once with your wand to leave here and when you want to come back, do the same thing. The Portkey will disappear once used and return to our possession ready to be reused.”

  
“How much do I owe you?” Harry pulled out his wallet. He still had his pouch but for convenience, he had both on him. He didn't tell Remus, but one time when he'd ventured into Muggle London to buy the wallet and before he returned the album to him, he made a copy of the very last photo. It was near and dear to his heart and the intimate moment between the 2 most important people in his life he wanted to keep close to him. It captured a light moment in times of dark.

  
“6 Galleons.” Raising an eyebrow, Harry handed the money over. He thought it would be more than that. He picked up the tennis ball and the man gulped visibly before looking at Harry with..pity? There was something wrong. “Enjoy your trip.” Were the last words he heard before one of the most unpleasant sensations he had to date, took him to an entirely different country.

  
Needless to say, Harry didn't land on his feet. As it was his cloak flew over his head obscuring his vision and he fell flat on his face, whacking his head off the wooden floor.

  
“Bloody buggering hell.” He moaned, rubbing his aching head and sorting his cloak out.

  
“Rough landing?” An outstretched hand lead to a man who didn't look that much older than him.

  
“Yeah, I've never been good with Portkeys.” He took the hand and righted himself. “Thanks!”

  
“No problem.” He gestured Harry to some plush armchairs, where they both sat down.

  
“What brings you here my friend?”

  
Harry smiled. “I'm here to tour Dracula's castle.” He narrowed his eyes at the man's reaction.

  
He was checking to see who was surrounding him, before quickly pulling out his wand to cast some privacy charms, from what Harry could see. He leant back and observed him.

  
“Sorry, necessary.” He apologised, before addressing Harry. “My name is Alin. I live in the small wizarding village just shy of the castle. I have grown up hearing the stories of how the castle is haunted and has been for quite some time. All who have entered have returned but have spoken of things they've seen, ghostly apparitions and the like. So I thought I'd just warn you.”

  
Harry shrugged. “I'll have to see for myself. I'm used to the paranormal activity. I go to a school called Hogwarts and the place is filled with ghosts and a poltergeist.”

  
The man blinked. “Oh, I have heard of Hogwarts. What is your name if I might ask?”

  
Harry didn't see the harm in it, it's not as if the man knew who Harry knew. If it came to the worst case scenario, he would later blame himself for his 'Gryffindor' stupidity. “Harry Potter.”

  
To his relief, the man merely had a faint recognition in his eyes. “Ah yes, I read about you. Not sure how much of it is true.”

  
“I don't know what there is of me in the books, the only thing that is true if it's in there is I survived the killing curse, but it was my mother's sacrifice which allowed me to live and defeated Voldemort and not actions on my part.” He answered honestly.

  
The man snorted. "You should read the books, they're most likely a work of fiction.”

  
“I'll take a look when I go home. Nice meeting you Alin and thanks for the warning, I'll be careful.” Nodding to the man, he decided to take a slow walk to the castle, which was about a mile up the road.

  
Harry had to admit to himself, it was a lovely looking place though clearly isolated. It was still summer but he could see that not much greenery grew here. Flowers and wildlife were scarce and vultures flocked the purplish red sky. By far the most impressive sight was the castle itself. It stood upon a huge rocky cliff with a spiralling path to the top. There was no bridge, merely rock acting as a path and nothing health and safety wise. The building rivalled Hogwarts in its size and Harry was excited to explore but kept the warning fresh in the back of his mind. The area around him was almost dried up and lacked moisture, though any signs of life remained near or in the houses as Harry could see occasional flowers here and there as well as a few shops he could stop by.

  
The walk up there was a long one. The one thing which Harry neglected to do during his self-training was practising walking up vertically challenging paths. He wasn't winded by any means, Thanatos' endurance had passed over to him in human form, but he was a lot slower than he would've liked. Harry had a near-death experience when his foot slipped on the edge of the path and stone crumbled beneath his foot. Vowing to be more careful, he was amazed at the sight that greeted him, pulling out a wizarding camera and snapping a few shots for the benefit of Remus.

  
“Fumblebore's wrinkly sack...” His eyes widened almost comically.

  
And that was one way to describe it. The path made out of natural stone forged by nature soon turned into smooth grey cobblestones, that formed a wide path. To the end of this path, stood a large, imposing door. It looked to be at least 40ft high and he idly wondered how in the hell he was going to push it open. Either side of this door, smaller stairs to the left and right of the main stairs joined on, leading down to various other areas of the castle from there. Perched on the outer bannisters of the left and right stairs, 2 mighty stone gargoyles in the shape of huge dragons faced each other, as if ready for battle and flight. Their stone tails hung off the edge and glowing orange eyes gave the appearance of sentience. Chains attached to the base of their wings and on the end of these chains was a kind of pulley system either side, which looked relatively unstable but was used for reaching other parts of the castle from the front which the stairs couldn't do, since they only lead forwards, or down. Harry noticed that the sky seemed to darken ominously upon his arrival and he could feel slight apprehension build until he focused inwards and locked that debilitating feeling away. The only light shone from various torches dotted about the place, small sparks of colour brightening his surroundings among the darkness. A large round window was above the door, intricate designs etched into the glass work, much like the stained glass windows you'd see in churches.

  
His footsteps echoed as Harry sprang both wands from his holsters, having learned how to use his left hand in a fight out of necessity if his other was incapacitated. There was no trouble, not even when he got to the door, as it opened with ease.

  
“This is far too easy,” Harry muttered, slipping inside and scanning the area.

  
He was in what looked like a throne room. Beneath his feet a carpet of the deepest red with swirling golden threads made a long line across the expanse of the room, ending at the throne itself. On either side of him were strange looking statues which seemed to be made from metals, dangerously sharp spikes covered their armoured bodies and they were crouched, ready to attack. 8 pillars from ceiling to the floor were on either side of the carpets, each having a naked fallen angel, wings spread behind them and their ankles and the remainder of the pillars with twisting serpents the same colour as the stone. Their arms were above their heads as though ready to stretch and their bodies were a dulled golden colour. Everything was worn with age but looked to be cared for. A huge chandelier hung in the centre of the room, the candles on it and spread throughout the room at the base of some of these pillars shedding the only light, as the silken crimson curtains remained shut.

  
The most impressive sight for Harry was the throne. A decoration of a crucifix hung above the seat with a Wyvern design at the very heart of it, wings spread in flight. The throne had the same design as the pillars, snakes thriving along the armrests and the throne, save for the seat itself which had a velvet cushion to match the red and gold themes in the room. Though they were the dominant colours, there were black/grey stones which built the foundations and smooth surfaces were jade green marble.

  
There were no other doors Harry could see until he turned around. Stairs on either side lead to another much smaller door, but he decided to go and inspect the throne.

  
“This is amazing.” he breathed, taking a few more pictures and a close up on one of the pillars. Nothing bad had happened so far, but he was still wary.

  
The first of Harry's problems was when he ran a hand lightly upon the throne's armrest. He wouldn't have if he'd known what trouble it would cause.

  
It was a split second later that his senses were screaming for him to move and did, just in time as a long metal javelin narrowly missed his skull. Going into battle mode, he swung around.

  
The strange guardians on either side of the entryway were alive and currently trying to kill him, one tucked its legs into its body, creating a ball. It spun until it gathered up a tremendous speed, charging into Harry. He jumped, rolling to take most of the impact and using his forward momentum to duck behind a pillar, as the second guardian tried to take his head off with a sword.

  
“Fuck, why is it always me?!” He shouted, bemoaning his life as he ran through a mental list of spells he could use. He noticed with no small amount of amusement that the one charging him had done so to the extent where his metal spikes had gotten him lodged into the wall, where he was stuck. He'd deal with that one last.

  
Harry pointed dead centre as his target. “Expelliarmus!” He cried, the sword flying and sticking to the opposite wall. To his dismay, another sword appeared out of thin air and he charged at Harry. Thinking quickly, he ran halfway up the stairs before aiming at the ground below him, waiting for the guardian.

  
“Reducto!”

  
The spell did its job, the Guardian was sent flying through the air from the force of the shock waves, which left behind a small crater, bits of debris coating the air. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Harry cast aguamenti, the joints rusting up and slowing the movements. Then, lightning crackled upon his outstretched palm. Though a wand was good as a focus, the raw power came from the skin and a direct conductor. He put considerable power into the spell, aiming for the water and watched as the guardian was fried to a point where he exploded, bits of metal flying everywhere.

  
“Fuck!” He cursed. The other had gotten free without Harry realising and cut into Harry's arm with the sword from the wall, grazing the cloak. Thankfully the cut was a shallow one and he made quick work of healing the skin.

  
A light bulb went off in Harry's head. He noticed that far off to the side, there was a large part of the ceiling which looked to be corroding naturally, ready to give way. He would need both wands for this. He encouraged the second guardian to stand directly beneath the loose stone, using his new wand on the guardian while his old one was for the stone.

  
“Levicorpus.” The Guardian was suspended by the ankles, staying there. Aiming with his other arm, he charged the spell. “Confringo.”

  
The effect was instant. Harry let go of the spell the same time as he cast the other. The stone fell upon it, mangling the guardian beyond repair.

  
“Note to self, don't touch a bloody thing.” he allowed himself to sigh in relief.

 

Then, a sudden wind kicked up, putting Harry on alert.

  
The ghosts he had been told about appeared, but none seemed to take notice. They looked nothing like Hogwarts ghosts, though, they were somewhat flat and not realistic. He simply watched them and after a few minutes vanished. The wind didn't die down and if anything, grew cooler. Unnaturally so.

  
“Oh God.” His eyes widened. Through the large door, he'd entered in, 6 Dementors floated through. It was all he could do to not collapse to the ground and succumb to his worst memories. Instead, he brought forth the one of where he and Remus ran through the forests and Remus' ride on his animagi forms and let the emotions swell within him. A scabby hand touched his cheek gently. He had to act quickly.

  
“Expecto Patronum.” He did a double take when instead of a stag, a corporeal version of Thanatos appeared. He wasn't the usual silver, but instead a chillingly bright green. He charged through them with a ferocity, but they tripped and fell over. It clicked.

  
“What the fuck, Boggarts?” He sighed. “Riddikulus.”

  
He had to chuckle when their robes turned the different colours of the rainbow and they joined a line to form the conga before they too vanished.

  
“I see what Alin means,” He mused. “I've come too far to go back, though, let's see what else this place has to offer.”

  
He was just about to head up the stairs when a voice called out from behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who may come from this country, I deeply apologise. Just think of it as magical based and what you know of it and how it truly is, the non-magical place.


	11. Enter Alistair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry feels very relaxed and at home, in a place which he has only been in for a few hours and equally, with a man he has only just met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween everyone! To anyone who doesn't celebrate have a nice day/night :) I felt like posting this chapter early, only fitting since Harry's about to meet a certain stereotypical creature which people dress up as at this time of year ;) I'm stumped for a chapter title, sorry! I'll return when I have inspiration xD

“Impressive, everyone else ran at this point.” Harry spun round, a fireball tingling upon his palm and a wand pointed at the nose of a very amused man.

 

“Jesus Christ, do you make it a habit of popping into people's lives and giving them a heart attack?” Harry got out among the shallow pants. The hand which had a fireball clutching his rapidly beating heart, his other arm not lowered from its position.

 

“Only the interesting ones.” He flashed a charming smile, the white fangs gleaming. A vampire then. “They all say the place is haunted when really that is me and my pranks. Life gets so boring around here, I haven't had company since Dracul died and even then he wasn't much for company.” His voice had a musical lilt to it and was calming to listen to. Despite this, Harry didn't let down his guard but lowered his wand.

 

“You mean to tell me,” He gestured to the large rock buried in the ground and the puddle surrounded by blown up bits of metal, “That they were a prank? You have a morbid sense of humour since I nearly died.” He commented casually. “As for the others, I'm used to ghosts. Boggarts I tend to avoid and now you understand why.”

 

He tilted his head, curiosity in his gaze. “They were not my doing. It was because you touched the throne and the magics detected that you're not a part of that bloodline. The ghosts scared people off but you were not phased. As for the Boggarts usually people have a rather silly fear, but yours was fear itself. Dementors.” His face had a slight grimace.

 

Harry nodded his head in agreement. “Had a run in with them on several occasions, definitely not the best moments of my life.”

 

The Vampire let out a tinkling laugh. “I can imagine!” He held out an elegant hand, larger than Harry's own. He had manicured fingernails and a single silver band was on his finger. His skin wasn't pale like most vampires, it just had a healthy, normal glow and was just a shade lighter than Harry's slightly tanned colour.

 

“My name is Alistair Avis Lothaire. I am the last of my line save for my brother, but I have not seen him in many years. I sense that he is alive, but not where. When my parents passed on, Dracul's castle was inherited by me, the closest living descendant to him, though I have been around for far longer. I am currently 1,500 years old,” he smiled slightly at Harry's shock. “I have been around for a while. Most would call me an Ancient Vampire but really I am only that once I reach 2,000. I'm actually a Master Vampire. I've lived here on my own for most of my existence, the only entertainment being those who enter this castle and run screaming in fright once my little pranks get to them.”

 

Harry took the larger hand in his but to his surprise and slight embarrassment, he brushed his lips over the top of Harry's hand.

 

“It's only polite.” His eyes twinkled as Harry's entire body seemed to blush.

 

“You know,” Harry managed to speak after a few seconds. “If you fancied company you could have always invited people round for a drink instead of scaring them shitless.”

 

Alistair made a tut-tutting noise at the back of his throat, shaking his head. “Now where would the fun be in that?”

 

Harry grinned. “I can't fault you there.”

 

He gave a grin of his own. “I knew you'd see it my way. In that case, do you care for a drink? You're the first to have not run after meeting me, most people don't like Vampires.” He gazed at Harry curiously. “Why is it that you have not run? You know that I could easily kill you where you stand?”

 

Harry gazed at him unblinkingly, thinking of his answer. “I've never met a Vampire, up until now. Though the Wizarding World have their biased opinions upon Vampires and Werewolves, I promised finding out about it that I wouldn't pass judgment unless I actually met them myself. Werewolves are seen as mindless beasts but my friend is one and he is the kindest man you could ever have the pleasure to meet. As for you, I understand all too well how you could kill me but you seem a nice enough bloke. If you had intended to kill me I'm pretty sure you would've drunk me dry before introducing yourself. In answer to your other question yes, I'd love a drink.” His green eyes glittered as he followed the much taller Vampire, as they walked from room to room.

 

Alistair smiled widely, turning his head slightly to meet his eyes. “For one so young you have a mature outlook on life. It's a refreshing thing to see. If only the rest of them had your mindset.”

 

Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Tell that to everyone else and they'll have your head on a pike, or try to. I'm either the scapegoat or boy wonder back at home.”

 

Alistair blinked. “I apologise, how rude of me, I didn't think to ask. What is your name?”

 

Harry didn't want to be so arrogant and think that everyone had heard of him, but he braced himself for whatever his reaction would be anyway. “Harry Potter.”

 

Alistair's eyes gleamed in interest. “You are? Out here, there isn't much talk of you but I have travelled to England from time to time and the stories that I have heard over there sound very far-fetched or at least stretch out the truth a little. You'll have to clear up some things for me.”

 

Harry looked at him gratefully. “I'd be more than happy to help you, in that case. Others take what they see at face value and don't bother to learn the truth." His eyes were sad. “I wish they would.”

 

A cool hand rested on his shoulder. It brought him some comfort, despite Alistair being a stranger to Harry. “Your eyes and soul speak of things which shouldn't have happened to one so young.”

 

“Normally I hide what I feel.” He admitted. “Meditation helps with that.”

 

Alistair didn't respond, as he pushed open a door which leads to what looked like an office. The room was much the same style but looked far more lived in. Comfortable sofas and chairs were in the room, 2 of the chairs near a large wooden desk, with several bits of parchment and quill and ink. A cabinet was off to the side, filled with bottles of alcohol, another larger cabinet filled with several different bottles, but those were a similar colour of red. If Harry had to guess, it was probably blood. Alistair unlocked the cabinet with a wave of his hand, the glasses for what Harry realised was fire whisky appearing on the table. The pair sat on one of the sofas, Harry having to battle the urge to sleep as the seat was so comfortable. He raised an eyebrow when Alistair poured a generous amount into a glass.

 

Alistair shrugged, sipping his own. “It's not as if there's anyone here to reprimand you, at this point, age is irrelevant to me. You look like you need it.”

 

Harry really couldn't argue with that. He hadn't actually tried the drink before, so was careful to take a small amount. It burned pleasantly down his throat as he shut his eyes to savour the taste.

 

“First time?” Alistair commented, smiling at the look of bliss on Harry's face.

 

He blushed lightly. “Yeah.” In that moment, Harry took a proper look at Alistair, not really having the chance to until now.

 

His hair was a medium brown. It was tied into a high ponytail, a braid captured within the tie of the black ribbon as tendrils framed either side of his face. His facial features were soft, yet sharp at the same time which suggested good breeding. Though Harry had never thought of one that way, he'd have to say Alistair's nose was cute. His lips were soft and pink. A dimple was visible when he quirked the left side of his mouth in a smile. He had no jewellery to speak of, other than his ring, and he was wearing a long flowing cape, embroidered on the inside with a soft lilac colour. The cape itself was black on the outside. He wore a waistcoat with a long sleeved buttoned shirt, with black trousers and dark leather shoes. His eyes captivated Harry the most. Looking into them, Harry was reminded by the sunsets he would love to watch in the evenings. They were a blended mix of orange, red and yellow. It should look odd on him, but it was only fitting. Overall though he was over a thousand years old, he looked in his late 20's. The teenage side of Harry's brain remarked on how drop dead gorgeous he was. The rational side of Harry told the teen Harry to shut up because he'd never pay him the time of day.

 

Harry blinked once, finding the man staring at him. “Like what you see?” He teased.

 

Harry was sure the man wanted Harry in a constant state of blushing. As it was, he averted his eyes shyly.

 

“Anyone remotely attracted to men would be insane to say otherwise.” He realised what he came out with, Alistair's musical laughter made him want to melt into the couch. He took a deeper drink of his whisky.

 

While Harry was studying Alistair, He was doing the same to Harry. He felt the unfamiliar feelings of attraction stir within him. While he was born a vampire and by no means a virgin, no one had ever really captured his attention like Harry, as he was the first to not run either from the pranks or from him. He was 16, and beautiful. His hair was tinged with a dark green and arranged so it was messy, but some of his hair was close to covering his right eye, swept to the side. He was very expressive and in Alistair's opinion rather adorable. His eyes were the most enchanting shade of bright green he had seen. He felt as though he could be lost in those eyes. While Harry himself in youth declared innocence, his eyes told a different story and Alistair's compassion reared its head once more, wanting to aid him. He was not like the other Vampires. Most of them cared little for other humans and were only there to serve their own selfish needs. Alistair often cared too much. If anyone was a friend or lover to him, he would protect them to the best of his ability. He was loyal and if someone he cared for was hurting, he would relentlessly hunt that person to enact revenge. It was only after a moment of observation that he felt magic upon the young man and came to the conclusion that it was a glamour charm, but he could see through it. Though it was stronger, truly it was a simple matter of will, which not many people knew. If your will was stronger than the magic, then it would override any means of magical disguise. Vampires had the ability to see through these magics anyway and Alistair had spent a lot of time refining his techniques and sharpening his skills.

 

Harry felt fingers gently tilt his chin up and he met the surprisingly warm gaze of Alistair.

 

“Come now, it's not that bad. I thank you for the compliment.” He removed his hand from Harry's chin and a tiny part of him deep inside was disappointed with the loss of contact.

 

Harry couldn't help but smile in return, his emerald eyes softening. “You're welcome.” He drank some more whisky and marvelled how at ease he was despite being in an unknown environment. He looked back at Alistair, so many questions he wanted to ask but his brain couldn't produce a single one, so he went for something in general.

 

“I have searched through Wizarding and Muggle texts and while they do list the history of Vampires, it's not very informative and speculation at its best. I admit I have many questions but they may be answered with time. Could you tell me of your history?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity.

 

“I'd be happy to.” He set his drink back on the table and Harry gave him his undivided attention.

 

Harry learned a lot from Alistair and he found to his delight that every single one of his questions was covered in some form. They talked for hours, Harry feeling as though he was talking to a close friend rather than an acquaintance.

 

“Thank you, I appreciate it. That actually did answer all the questions I had.” He chuckled, holding out his glass when Alistair went to pour more into both.

 

The man beside him gave a happy sigh. “It's very nice to have someone to talk to about these things, or at least show an interest. So thank you.”

 

Nodding in acceptance, he watched Alistair who looked to be deep in thought. A few moments later, he turned to face him again.

 

“I returned to England each year since 1991. when you had started that school Hogwarts. I didn't originally go to England for the purpose of you, but the rumours which I heard were far too interesting to not return. I've heard a lot of things and I'm not sure if even half of it is true. Firstly, is it true that when you were 11 years of age, you went through a series of defences designed by adults, to stop someone from using the Philosopher's Stone?”

 

Harry rubbed his head. “Much as I wish it wasn't, yes that's true.” Seeing the silent question in his eyes, he continued. “Ron, Hermione and I uncovered the plot of a then bodiless Voldemort to use the stone for his own gains, so he could be immortal. He possessed the DADA teacher of that year, who wore a turban because Voldemort was sticking out of the back of his head as another face.”

 

Alistair shook his head in disappointment. “Bad possession that. Once you possess someone, you are meant to be that person, all of your mind being your own. It shouldn't damage the person being possessed or the possessor if they're careful, he did a terrible job. How did you not die? Your magical training must have been limited.”

 

Harry raised both eyebrows. “The more you know.” He bit his lip. “It was limited, but right from the start, I was manipulated by Albus Dumbledore. He strung me along as one would a dog on a leash, moulding me to be the perfect weapon so I can defeat Voldemort and sacrifice myself for the greater good. There's a prophecy out there with my name on it. I don't believe in prophecies but someone has to stop the bastard, he's caused so much damage as it is.”

 

Harry watched as Alistair's eyes took on a cold glint, fangs bared in a snarl. “I don't like Albus Dumbledore. His entire family and himself are supporters of eradicating Vampires altogether. It was him who persuaded the British ministry to force restrictions upon us all. As for him manipulating a child and now a young man? The lowest of the low. I take it you're here because you've finally broken free, so to speak?”

 

Harry nodded in confirmation. “I have. I think you would like to view my memories of the day I did and some other little things too. The old man knows the truth now and he has his little order hunting for me instead of Voldemort, claiming I've joined him. Tosser.”

 

“I'll drink to that!” The men clinked their glasses and did just that.

 

“Oh and just to confirm if the rumours are anything like the one you've just told me.” He held up his fingers scrunched and raised them one by one, counting off what he'd done over the years. “I killed a basilisk and saved the school, helped an escaped innocent convict to evade being captured and fought off over 100 Dementors, I won the Triwizard tournament and unwittingly helped with Voldemort's rebirth and I survived and successfully pushed out possession by Voldemort in the Ministry.”

 

Alistair's eyes were wide. “Well, that clears that up I suppose. There is one thing I want to ask.”

 

“Yes?” Harry asked politely.

 

“Do you know you have a huge magical block on your core?” He broached hesitantly.

 

“I'm supposed to get the last one removed in a few days time.”

 

“The last one?”

 

Harry grimaced. “I was lucky to not die. Dumbledore placed a total of 7 magical blocks on me. I was practically a squib in comparison to now though, after this one, my magical levels will have doubled.”

 

Alistair choked on his drink, Harry patting his back lightly. “7? The man is senile! Does he truly wish to have so much power that he would kill you?”

 

He sought Harry's gaze searchingly. “I presume you'll return for your 6th year?”

 

“Yeah.” Harry closed his eyes tiredly. “I know this year will be more challenging than the last, but I'll do my best.”

 

Alistair furrowed his brow in concern. “It doesn't sound like you're very safe there, be careful. As for your magical block, I can remove it if you wish? It will not be as painful as others removing it, but it will hurt a bit.”

 

Harry shrugged. “May as well since I'm here. Thank you.” He gave the man a smile as he stood up.

 

“You're quite welcome. Lie down for me.” He instructed, kneeling at the side of his head.

 

He placed a cool palm on his forehead, soothing the slight headache he had. Out of instinct, he closed his eyes.

 

“Relax.” He heard his voice saying. It was quite easy to, much more so that he was on a comfortable sofa and not shackled deep underground. It helped that Alistair's voice was naturally soothing. Perhaps that was the reason it hurt as well, that Harry wasn't comfortable or relaxed in his surroundings, like now.

 

Unlike the goblin, Alistair used no words. It was either a show of will for the magic to release Harry or a silent chant. Perhaps a combination of the two. Harry sunk deeper and would have fallen asleep if not for the pain. He was right, though, it didn't hurt as much but it could still easily rival the Cruciatus. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, only to feel a gentle tug as a thumb stroked over his bottom lip once.

 

“It's ok to cry out, you'll feel better.” He whispered softly.

 

Harry was bullheaded at the best of times though and didn't cry out until the pain reached its peak. He was used to keeping in his cries of pain, no thanks to his dear old Uncle Vernon. Before that, he settled for gritting his teeth.

 

“AHH!” He shouted, a spasm jerking his body before the hand not touching his forehead rested a hand on his stomach. The waves of magic made his body relax, the spasms dying down.

 

“Shh, you're doing well. It's nearly over.”

 

 _'Well thank fuck for that.'_   he thought before the pain did indeed die down. He tried to sit up, only to slump bonelessly back down.

 

“God that's draining.” He mumbled. Alistair stroked his cheek gently. Harry managed to open his eyes and squint, surprised at his close proximity.

 

“Why don't you rest here for a while?" He asked. “Removing larger blocks exhausts you, unlike smaller blocks where you have the desire to go run off all that energy.”

 

“Not as if I have a choice in the matter.” He grumbled jokingly. “Thank you, I'll take you up on that...offer.”

 

As the last word left his lips, Harry was asleep.

 

Regarding the young man with a fond smile, Alistair took a seat at his desk. He had a letter to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slightly nervous, while I like how I've written him, please let me know if you all like Alistair, because he will play a good part in this fic, if I have it my way :P I couldn't really split this chapter up much, I didn't see a place I could leave it off. Apologies to those who prefer shorter chapters, I know I do but to those who don't mind, I hope you enjoyed :)


	12. Interesting Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further conversations with Alistair leave Harry rethinking a lot of what he'd learned or decided for himself. It was true, you really do learn something new every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm not sure I'll ever get over the overwhelming response I've received in regards to this. I truly appreciate every single review, it makes my day :)

It took Harry a few seconds to realise that his mind was conscious, grimacing slightly as his eyes were almost stuck together with sleep. Rubbing them, he got some of the feeling back into his face. He could feel the lines of indentation from where it was pressed into the comfortable sofa he was lying on. A sure way to indicate whether he'd slept soundly and he was surprised to note that he had.

 

He'd never been a heavy sleeper, all those years underneath The Dursleys ensured this. Nightmares were almost a normal part of his life and he found to his annoyance that some of his nightmares were of killing his relatives. A small part of him must regret what he'd done, but the biggest piece was rinsing his hands from them and perfectly happy to move on and try to start some semblance of a normal life. Impossible really, what with people's high expectations of him.

 

He was almost regretful of waking up and was tempted to fall back asleep, but he was suddenly reminded of where he was and what had happened. He stood up slowly, taking the time to stretch and hear the satisfying clicking of his joints.

 

A sudden movement caught Harry's attention. Alistair was seated at his desk, one elegant eyebrow arched in amusement.

 

“You'd think you were an old man, the way your joints crack like that.” He commented idly.

 

Harry picked up his bag, bringing it with him to the seat at the opposite side of his desk, sitting down. “I feel it sometimes.” He sighed in exasperation, placing his elbows on the desk and using his hands to cushion his chin. “There are moments when I feel my age, then moments where it's all so overwhelming and I should actually be older than what I am.”

 

Alistair nodded, if that was in understanding or something else, he didn't know. “How did you sleep? You've been out for nearly 12 hours.”

 

“I have?” Harry exclaimed. “I slept well, actually.” He had to marvel at that fact.

 

“You seem surprised about that.” He observed.

 

“I am. With all that's happened so far, not to mention a Dark Lord after my arse, it doesn't really leave much room for a restful sleep.” He smiled a little. “It makes a nice change.”

 

“Do you not have Dreamless Sleep?” He questioned. “I'm sure I have a few phials somewhere that you can use.”

 

Harry frowned. “Thanks, but no thanks. I've had that stuff before. At one point I got addicted to it. The worst thing was that when I stopped, nightmares that I had returned with a vengeance but they were more frequent each night until it had balanced itself back out. So I tend to avoid taking it.”

 

“Ahh.” the man's eyes lit up in understanding. “I'm not sure why there's any in this castle, we Vampires don't have dreams of any kind or at least, the ones I know didn't.”

 

“Lucky. I'm half tempted to become a Vampire just for that,” he said jokingly.

 

Alistair's eyes glimmered with some emotion Harry couldn't place. “You're welcome to stay here for a few days if you wish. The company around here is rather boring.”

 

Harry chortled. “Not that you give the chance for people to offer company. Scar them for life, ask questions later.”

 

“Why it's not that bad, you speak of this as though I have been torturing them!” He gave a fake wounded look.

 

Harry couldn't help but feel amused. “You're right, of course, I bow to your superiority. In answer to your question, I can stay for a short while. Could you show me around the rest of the castle? What I've seen so far fascinates me.”

 

“Of course.” Alistair smiled enthusiastically, standing up and beckoning to the door, exiting his office.

 

Harry stayed for 4 days before deciding to head back. On the first day of his visit, he sent a brief letter to Remus, choosing to explain most of it in person.

 

_Remus,_

_How are things? Not too lonely without my top-notch company are you? To get to the point, I'm having a brilliant time. Something distinctly me has happened, though. As in, something has happened which only Harry Potter could have it happen to._

_I'll tell you more when I get back,_

_Harry_

 

It was a few hours before he decided to head back to England when both Harry and Alistair were in the main sitting room. It was lavishly decorated and a smaller version of the large chandelier which hung in the entryway caught the crystals, a shimmering pattern coating the walls and the ceiling from the sun.

 

Harry was surprised to learn that Alistair didn't melt in the sun like what a lot of books described. Apparently, it was only the Muggle Vampires which suffered a severe reaction to Sunlight. Magical Vampires could easily withstand the sun such as normal humans, it merely made them feel a little nauseous and as such preferred the dark.

 

“I want to ask you something.” Harry started as a plate of refreshments and a bottle of butterbeer for him and a glass of brandy for Alistair appeared on the table.

 

“Ask away.” he flicked his hand, taking a seat and giving Harry his attention.

 

“Have you ever actually possessed someone?” He was genuinely curious. The way Alistair spoke was as though he had some past experience.

 

To Harry's amusement, a slight pink tinge coloured the Vampire's cheeks. He didn't think Vampires had the ability to blush.

 

He coughed lightly, his hair swaying. It was not in a ponytail for once, hanging loosely down his back and around his shoulders, the braid framing the left side of his face.

 

“I have. Not maliciously as Voldemort has done, but I have slipped into several minds of men and women when they had strong sexual advances towards me. I could have easily just up and run, flew, call it what you will. But my bizarre sense of nobleness and a need to be polite to others unless they have deserved otherwise has always made me stay. I generally just slip into their bodies and implant the suggestion for them to go somewhere else or home, anywhere but near me.”

 

Harry's lips twitched. It didn't help that Lume and Thanatos also found that information incredibly amusing. Sometimes their emotions would bleed into his. Not that it caused a bad reaction of any kind, but he knew when it wasn't directly his own, like with Voldemort. Though he could sense bad intentions from the man but from his animagi, it was naturally different.

 

Harry took a large swig of his butterbeer but promptly choked the more he thought of the ludicrous scenario.

 

Choking on liquid, he managed to squeeze out his next words. “What are you, an aphrodisiac? Why were people so enamoured with you? You possessed them just to-” here he sniggered, “Get them to leave you alone?”

 

If possible, the blush grew. Alistair was definitely not your usual Vampire. Then again, what did Harry know? It was the first one he'd actually met and for all he knew, they were similar.

 

“No, but it is one of the reasons. I believe some of the younger generation nicknamed me a 'chick magnet'. It wasn't just the females. I have a preference for the harder planes of flesh, however, so the fairer sex is always left disappointed.”

 

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. Just the thought of a Vampire as old as Alistair fleeing from men and women alike with raging hormones after getting into his pants and being called a chick magnet. Soon tears were streaming down his face, he hadn't laughed like that in a while. They did say it was the best medicine and Harry had to agree that he did feel a little lighter, at least for the moment. He heard the last part of what Alistair said and his subconscious filed that information away for later use. He had to admire that the man had a wonderful way with words. Then again so did Snape, but he was a git.

 

Calming himself down, Harry eyed the Vampire. “Interesting, I'll remember that.”

 

Alistair barely withheld a grimace. He had no doubt that Harry would. He found it pleasing to see the young man laugh, it looked as though he hadn't many moments when he could do so. His eyes glittered brighter if that was possible, his face was like an open book. Not that Alistair minded, he found himself curious about him. He decided to do something then, which hadn't been done in centuries. He would offer his alliance and any influence he had, which was great, considering he was one of the oldest Vampires in existence since a lot of them had been driven away by the magical and muggle war, both seeking to purge the world of Vampires. The only other master Vampire he knew of was his younger brother, Solomon, though he had been lost to him for 74 years now. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he snapped back to attention.

 

“The other reason why I possess people is that it's better than Obliviate if done correctly. The incantation depends on the skill of the caster and even if the caster is skilled, they have to be focused, or they will erase more than the desired memory. Possession is simply borrowing someone's mind space for a while, to implant suggestions but not fully, just in the back of someone's mind. The whisper of a thought from me will allow them to forget that I drank from them that day. Though most Vampires drain their victims dry, I drink only enough to sustain me, healing the bite wound after.”

 

It was a sobering thought for Harry, but he did find himself surprised that Alistair was so considering. Despite his intention of keeping an open mind, he'd always had the initial thought that Vampires were just blood drinkers and didn't care much for humans or other races, but he was proved wrong.

 

“Thank you.” his eyes were sincere. “Whatever preconceived notions I might have had about your kind are gone. While I hadn't met any up until now, it was hard not to go along with what I'd been told. You're one of those diamond in the rough sorts aren't you?”

 

Alistair smiled gently. “That's one way of putting it.”

 

It was time for Harry to head back, but Alistair told him to wait for a moment, as he had something to give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter after this is a bit shorter, I decided to split them up again. I gave Alistair a brother! I'm fond of alliteration. I won't say how many years are between them, all you need to know is Alistair's the eldest. By how much is up to you!
> 
> Alistair Avis Lothaire
> 
> Solomon Sakari Lothaire
> 
> Let me know what you think of their names :D


	13. The Lothaire Family Heirloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair offers his assistance in the inevitable war, along with a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you all seem to like Alistair! I have a lot of things planned and several ideas, it's just getting those ideas on paper :P

It was a few seconds later that Alistair found himself in the treasury room, located in one of the rooms far below the castle. The place was enormous and would take more than 4 days for Harry to get to know all of them, that is if he wanted to come back here. He found what he was looking for in an intricately carved chest, bearing the Wyvern over the crucifix symbol-the sign of his family. The throne wasn't there from Dracula's time. In fact, many updates and changes had been made to the castle since and the entry way was bare from most decoration until Alistair had gotten his neatly manicured fingernails into it. The chest with his family motto on it was very small, as it has only the need to store 2 matching items in it, which was what he sought.

 

Elongating his fangs and nicking his index finger, he placed the bloody digit to the lock, watching with satisfaction as the little chest opened, protective magic still active after all these years.

 

The items he wanted themselves were imbued with plenty of protection charms and other useful little things, but he spent the time adding an anti-tracking charm, a charm which would ensure anyone who happened to gaze upon the wearer's wrist would see nothing but a plain bracelet with no remarkable worth and a charm which would prevent anyone intending the young wizard harm, such as placing more magical blocks on him. Unfortunately, it couldn't stop Avada Kedavra. He was frustrated with himself in the fact even with immortality on his side, he hadn't found a permanent solution to that blasted curse, other than to dodge or levitate an object in front. It was one of the many things which he aimed to do.

 

The items he had retrieved himself, were 2 bracelets. Each was identical and the gems embedded into them would only change once worn. They reflected the wearer and the colours were in sync with their emotions, much like a mood ring, only more accurate. Instead of your own emotions, they would show the one who wears the matching bracelet's instead.

 

The bracelet itself was a very simple yet elegant design, the metalwork platinum, but extracted by the moonlight. The moonlight has magical properties, as much as other wizards would scoff at this. At night, the bracelet shone with a light of its own, reflecting what the glowing orb in the sky imbued it with. On either side, clutching a stone between them, were 2 Wyverns. Their forked tails met at the end, joining to create a circle. They were magnetic and it was how the bracelet was pulled apart to place on a wrist, by pulling the tail ends apart and letting them reconnect.

 

The most special thing about them was, the ability for telepathic communication, no matter the distance. They were originally used for one's intended by the use of the family, or anyone with a deep sense of trust and well-being for the other. They had not been used for centuries and not really for the way Alistair intended to use them if Harry excepted. It was to help protect him and keep in contact if he so wished to.

 

Placing one on his wrist and carrying the other, he felt hesitation for the first time in a long time. Would he accept it? The bracelets were intended for more than he was using them for, but situations did tend to develop over time. Shaking the stray thoughts from his head, he let the tendrils of darkness from the shadows of the room carry him to another shadowed corner, near where Harry was.

 

Harry had to admit, he had a great time. Alistair was certainly a character, that much he could admit. Deep down, he'd love to meet up with the Vampire again. He was one of the few people who saw him and not the cursed scar carved into his forehead. He'd realised that his glamours didn't work with the man and he wasn't surprised by that. Soft footsteps brought him back to the present and he stood upon Alistair's arrival.

 

“Lord Potter,” Alistair started. Harry raised an eyebrow. Must be something official if this was the case.

 

“I wish to offer you an alliance, to aid you in the upcoming war which you will be in the centre of. I and my brethren are aware of The Prophecy and my connections and all I own which may help, I offer to you. Do you accept?”

 

Seeing the seriousness of the situation, Harry nodded. “I accept.” He spoke solemnly.

 

The Vampire grinned, his mood returning to the usual. “Good! I have something for you if you will allow me to put it on?”

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry looked at the bracelet in the man's hand and held out his right wrist. “Ok.”

 

He undid the bracelet, his fingers brushing the skin of Harry's wrist, sending tingles up his spine. _'Must be the magic.'_   he thought.

 

He had a closer look at the bracelet and realised with some awe that it was beautiful and looked to be worth a fortune.

 

“They will help me to communicate with you if you wish to get in touch. Simply think of my name and I will hear you. They are buffed with several protective charms, though I added a few extra before I brought them up. I say them, as I wear the matching one.” He offered by way of explanation.

 

“Thank you.” Harry nodded his head with a smile, genuine in his thanks. The gift was thoughtful and most definitely useful, what with how many people wanted to murder him on the spot.

 

“You're quite welcome.” He bowed slightly. “I shall see you to the door.”

 

He did just that and after waving goodbye to Alistair, Harry decided to peruse some of the shops he'd glanced at on his way up to the castle a few days ago. Near the Portkey service, he'd spotted a twisting path leading downwards, to the point where he couldn't see what lay at the bottom. Deciding to browse the shops a little later, as it was only early and they shut late, he set off, a destination in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be fun, more new places for Harry to explore ;)


	14. A World Beyond His Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is this new place Harry has found? Are the people there friendly or will they cause him trouble?

The land beneath his feet was dry and parched for moisture of any kind, the echoes of his feet could be heard clearly as not many were wondering about the place at 8am in the morning. It was cold enough to warrant Harry to put on his clasped cloak, the regulated body charms ensuring that he was neither too warm or too cold, though if he had to choose between the two, it would always be the warmth. Too many nights of being locked out in the rain and snow come winter was too much for Harry to think of the cold with fondness.

 

Bag secured firmly on his back, he was once again thankful that he had no need of glasses thanks to his contacts. They were durable and lasted for a year before they had to be renewed, magic helped a lot in that regard. Over time, they would come to correct his poor eyesight. His eyes were bad but luckily not to the extent where the contacts couldn't help him. He still felt himself squinting in the bright light despite this, always finding it odd how the sun could be out but the land would remain cold. The path he'd taken away from the small town twisted downwards into a slope, his boots helped with the steep trek down but using his untracked wand, he cast a localized sticking charm to his feet, so when they were firmly planted to the ground, no force beyond someone aiming to chop his feet off altogether would be able to shift him.

 

To his surprise, the close path lead into a cave which seemed to be not man made. Time itself looked to have let the rocks crumble here and it was with some curiosity and excitement that Harry lit lumos upon his wand, the whisper of an adventure enticing him.

 

“Damn.” He murmured appreciatively, more glad than ever he took this little trip before his inevitable return back to Hogwarts.

 

The path before him was relatively thick, but didn't cover the entirety of the cave. It was a bridge across to the other side. Multicoloured patches of moist grass glistening with dew shone with a light of their own as little glowing mushrooms dotted the bridge, helping to shed light. He looked below, a steady stream of water surrounded him, some water life swimming within it and huge thick vines sprouted from the walls beside him, bearing flowers. The whole area exuded peace and tranquillity, as though humans had never stepped foot in this place. If they had, then it wasn't for a very long time.

 

It only took a few minutes before he reached the end and his path was filled with more of the same, though strange plants and crystals he'd never seen before caught his eye.

 

“What's this?” He wondered as his attention was focused on a little tree like plant which sprouted from the ground. The branches were wrapped around a brightly glowing ball that seemed to reflect the entire galaxy within it, shining with a magic of its own. He cautiously reached out to touch it and was surprised when a small opening was revealed to him. Looking inside, he realised the contents were of several precious gems and wondered what on earth this thing was. Crossing his fingers that he wasn't being a Gryffindor idiot as Snapey boy so dearly liked to point out to him, he reached his hand in and placed the gems within his bag, possibly finding a good purpose for them later.

 

He truly took his time, marvelling at the sights and wonders of the likes which he had never seen. A sudden moment of inspiration caused him to click away with his camera to add to the growing collection of pictures he had taken at the castle and the surrounding scenery, now at this. Remus was going to love this, of that he was sure.

 

A plant similar to that of which he'd gotten the gems for stood before him, but it was smaller, taller and was more like a flower than a tree, but had no petals. Behind it directly in the middle, was a large door made up of vines and swirling magic. In fact, upon his entry of the cave, some magic washed over him. Perhaps this place was under its own kind of fidelus charm? He only guessed at this because the place was unblemished and Harry was sure if anyone else had been here before him, they would have removed the gems unless someone else placed them there for an unknown reason. To Harry, the plant looked almost like a lever or a pulley of some kind. 

 

Crouching before it, he looked for any indication that the plant could be manoeuvred in some way and noticed a faint black line around the base of the ball. Perhaps if he turned the knob clockwise? Wondering if for once in his life things could actually be that easy, Harry did just that, delighted when with a rustle of leaves and vines scraping against rock revealed what lay within.

 

Harry had too may shocks within these last few days so it was by some miracle that he didn't pass out in a potentially hostile environment, but this was the one time he was glad to be Harry Potter and right here.

 

A huge, twisting tree stood in the centre of a circular room which looked to be bigger than The Great Hall at Hogwarts. The knots and wood spoke of an age-old wisdom and the leaves it sprouted were deep crimson, lightening at the tips from where somehow sunshine poured upon them. Looking up he realized there wasn't actually a roof, but more of these vines, much thicker which intertwined in the middle, gaps of sun leaking through where the thick green growths of nature weren't. Several leafed plants hung from the vines where the end of the vines themselves was wrapped securely around several towering grey pillars with swirling intricate decorations, a glowing faint blue light within the lines of the pattern itself. They looked to be the foundation of the room. The aforementioned tree was stood on a circular platform with several steps leading up to it. There were baskets full of food and treasures, which Harry guessed at being offerings. Surrounding the tree at the very edge of the steps several feet apart from each other were 10 of the same plants which he used to open the door. These didn't look like they had a mechanism of any kind, but more for decoration. There wasn't much wall to speak of, it started made of the same material as the pillars but the rest were purely stained glass windows, the first a very light peach and orange colour with the pattern somewhat similar to that of leaves. The larger ones which curved to end a little beneath the thick vines was a pinkish colour, bearing the same pattern. The ground was lush green grass, nature only disrupted by several stairs leading to stalls and other various platforms, of which people were happily conversing with one another. One of them was approaching him and he came to the realisation that they were most certainly not human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having shorter chapters as it's more manageable for me but I'm trying to keep things as spiced up as possible :P The worst insult someone could give me is that my fics are boring, so I try my best to make sure no one says that :)


	15. What's This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To say that Harry rushes into things head first without a back-up plan would be an understatement but for the first time in his life, those rash decisions have seemed to lead him into good things, including a world he never knew existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry for the cliffie, I know one or two of you were frustrated at this ;) I'm so pleased by the response and 10K hits! That's insane.

Harry scrutinised what he guessed was a female heading in his direction. At first glance, he would have pegged them for elves, but dismissed that thought immediately. They did have pointed ears, but they were larger and actually had a second point to them, like the start of webbing but soon joined up to form ears. This one's skin was completely blue, but not in an unhealthy way, it looked to be her natural colour. Immediately he could tell she was taller than him by quite a bit, the men towering over the women even more so. He would've bitterly reminded himself at his treatment at the hands of the Dursleys if not that even Remus would be hard pressed to match these guys for height.

  
Upon closer inspection, spirals lined her cheekbones and went down beyond her neck, the skin a darker hue. She had no whites to her eyes, they were completely black as was the pupil. The only sign of recognition he could see in her looking at him was the very vivid shade of purple which shone like a neon light from her eyes, a faint white shine indicating where her pupils were. Her eyes were slanted and almost catlike, her lips the same shade of blue as her markings. Her hair was tied into an elegant bun, another of those strange plants in her hair but they shone and accentuated her features, for she was indeed beautiful. Harry couldn't deny that. Her hair itself was a very light shade of pink and she wore what looked to be armor made entirely of vines and leaves, very much the same kinds of materials he had discovered in his short walk to the heart of this strange new world. She wore a cape which resembled a very long leaf, whether it actually was or it merely resembled one, Harry didn't know. A golden glow indicated that it was imbued with magiks of a kind he didn't know. Huge blades were upon her back, curved and looking like fanged boomerangs. She stopped before him and Harry was frustrated when he had to step back just so he didn't crane his neck like an idiot.

 

She cocked her head, gazing at him very much the same way as he was looking at her. Her widened eyes seemed to reflect her surprise that he was even here and he found himself unsurprised by this.

 

“Greetings, traveller. My name is Nihri. To what do we owe the pleasure?” She had an Irish lilt to her voice, Seamus' own accent ringing in his ears.

 

“Hello, Nihri,” He bowed slightly. “My name is Harry. I didn't expect to come across this place, I was merely exploring and my travels lead me to be here.” He decided in this case honesty was definitely the best policy. She looked dangerous, as did some of the others who were eying him in suspicion.

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Mortal, no human has set foot in this place for thousands of years. We Fae who make this our home and a few elves, but no human. You have found this place for a reason.”

 

Harry confirmed to himself that magic definitely guarded the entrance to the cave. He gazed at her curiously. “The entrance to your home was a cave at the end of a path which broke away from the town I was in. You have magic guarding it?”

 

She nodded. “Only those worthy may enter, the elder decides who. Come with me Harry, let me tell you a little of the Autumn Fae.”

 

Harry spent the day within the Autumn Fae's home. He found out that time passed differently. While here he was there for nearly an entire day, once he'd exited it would only be 2 hours later than when he'd entered, which was very convenient for him. A craft smith by the name of Gareon sensed that Harry had gems in his possession taken from the 'Elderlings'. In truth, no one knew their names and they each served a different purpose, as Harry saw when one was a lever, a storage chest and one merely for decoration. They would only open when they sensed one who was worthy. He wasn't sure in what way he was worthy, however. Gareon fashioned a ruby pendant for Hermione, a sapphire bracelet for Luna and rose quartz earrings for Ginny. He knew he could trust these girls, especially Hermione who was like a sister to him. A small part of him recognised that they could be playing him for a fool, but that same part hoped for true friends to see him through this war.

 

Harry found out that the elder was, in fact, the large tree and spoke. With all his years in the wizarding world finding out that half if not all the things he'd learned in the Muggle world was real, the idea of a talking tree was more than acceptable.

 

“Stay true to your path, beware the slippery snake and the shadow that hides in light.” The elder had a voice which reminded Harry of every Hogwarts door creaking in the castle. Like Dumbledore, he (Harry didn't assume the elder had a gender but it was easier for him this way) spoke in cryptic tones. He had enough intelligence to understand that it was a warning about Dumbledore and Voldemort, and took the advice to heart.

 

Eventually, most of the Fae warmed up to him, Nihri helping with this. She was among one of the most respected Fae within their clan. Soon he was answering questions about what it was like out there and he shared some of his 'destiny' with them.

 

“Harry.”

 

Said emerald eyed man looked up at Nihri.

 

“I would like to offer you an alliance.” She stated formally. His eyebrows rose in shock. “Though we do not usually trouble ourselves in the affairs of the mortals, we sense that you bring change with you and that it will affect more than the world that you live in. If you have need of us, speak with Willow.”

 

He frowned. “Who's Willow?”

 

Nihri smiled softly. “You know her as the Whomping Willow. The only reason we know of the world outside is through her. She communicated with the elder who in turn communicates with us. She is one of our seedlings, lost to us in the travel between worlds. The tang of different magic in the air corrupted her when one Albus Dumbledore planted her. The dark lycanthropic magic tainted her wood and it's only recently that she has recovered, but still deformed.”

 

“She nearly killed me in my second year.” Harry stated, continuing, “Granted it was mine and my ex-best friend's fault.”

 

Her eyes were saddened. “She doesn't mean to be violent, she had a lot of corruption to remove from her system.” She shook his hand. “Take care mortal. If you have need, don't hesitate to contact us.”

 

“I will.” He bowed once more. “Thank you for your hospitality and gifts,” he gestured to the stowed away armor he'd been given that was adjustable and various weapons which they'd explained the use of.

 

“You will have need of those gifts frequently.” She spoke ominously, leaving him.

 

“Huh.” he shrugged his shoulders, hefting his bag more securely on his shoulders and leaving the cave, his intent on telling Remus of his latest adventure strong in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next few chapters will be fun :P Inspiration was from the game Kingdoms of Amalur, if you haven't played this please do so, it's a very enjoyable game!


	16. Return Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's back home and poor Remus gets the fright of his life. Said wolf then makes an offer that Harry can't pass up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had 1K more hits since the last chapter, that's insane! I truly don't think this story deserves so much love but I appreciate it all the same :D

Harry was certainly in a cheery mood after he'd returned to England. He'd had a fantastic time and almost sighed when both Alin and the man who had served him in the British Portkey branch were surprised that he was alive and was beginning to suspect that either Alistair had removed the memories of all who had entered the castle when it went tits up, or the tale of no one returning has been told for so long, no one could distinguish between the two. He suspected it was a little of both, actually. He did browse the other shops in Transylvania but they paled in comparison to all manner of items he'd bought including some finely tailored robes for Remus.

 

  
At first, he thought that Remus wouldn't believe that he'd gained an ally with the Autumn Fae and a Master Vampire, but then remembered with some disgust he was Harry Potter, the impossible was made possible where his life was concerned.

 

Exiting the Portkey Service, he looked upon his wrist with some fondness at the bracelet Alistair had given him. It was truly a beautiful design and the stone shone a golden colour. Harry knew how mood rings worked and he supposed that he was seeing a reflection of Alistair's emotions. He did wonder what his were like right now. He didn't know the colour scheme of any mood jewellery, he'd have to take a guess and say that gold was happy, joyful? He didn't know but he supposed he could always find out later.

 

He panicked when he checked his magic, before sighing in relief. He should have realised he'd remembered to reapply his blood glamour because nobody was clamouring for his autograph. It was nice, to blend in the background like this. He wished he had some semblance of normalcy, that he could go down Diagon Alley and not be gawked at like he was some sort of God descended to earth. One day after the defeat of Voldemort (he will kill the bastard) and once the whole he defeated Voldemort thing died down, it was his wish that he could walk about as he pleased with no one batting an eyelid.

 

Giving a wistful sigh, he chose the shadows of Knockturn Alley to apparate to home.

 

It was with a great sense of satisfaction that he stayed upright on his feet and didn't trip. They did say practice made perfect and while he still found the sensation unpleasant, at least it was only disorientating and not bruising when he fell flat on his face.

 

With a mischievous grin, Harry closed his eyes and let his magic search for Remus'. Since the removal of his blocks, he'd noticed a lot of changes here and there, the most being his increase in power but also, he was more sensitive to his own magic and the magic of others or the magic in the air. In his mind, the magic looked like what objects do through a thermal camera, it showed where the magic was strongest and where the magic was weakest. A few seconds of searching indicated that his wolf friend was currently in the living room.

 

He disillusioned himself and his belongings, masking his scent and the sound of his footsteps. He was the son of a marauder and it was his duty in life to be the best son he could be, to give his father's friend a few more grey hairs to join the numerous collection.

 

The door opened with a barely noticeable creak. Peeking in the thankfully open door, he was sitting there, book in his open hand and tea on the side table. Barely restraining a snicker, he crept over to the side of the armchair, leaning to whisper in Remus' ear.

 

“Your time is up, child. Let the ferryman take you across the river Styx, where Death shall greet you as he would an old friend.”

 

If Harry had never met the man before, he would guess that the resulting wail was that of a banshee and not a man. He narrowly missed the book hitting him in the balls which it would've, had he not dodged to the side. He removed all the spells and almost collapsed in laughter as Remus was looking at him as though he'd never seen him before.

 

Dumping his things on the recently vacated armchair, he offered a hand. “Sorry Remus, couldn't resist. I had a great time and I'll tell you all about it. How are you?”

 

Remus sighed as though tired, but the amused twinkle in his eyes showed his true thoughts. He grasped the outstretched hand and stood on his feet. Clapping him on the shoulder, he gave his best stern look.

 

“I'm not getting any younger here, can you give this poor old defenceless werewolf a break?”

 

Harry crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as if to say _'Seriously?'_   “Defenceless? You need a change of adjective. I'm pretty sure that even with all my training you could still toss me on my arse.”

 

Remus gave him a considering look. “Why don't we find out?”

 

Harry's eyes visibly lit up. “Good idea, I have something to give you anyway.”

 

It was an hour and a half later that Harry and Remus collapsed on the duelling platform within the requirement closet. They'd come to a draw and both were physically, mentally and magically exhausted. It was then that Harry realised that while he might have tremendous power, it meant nothing if he didn't know how to utilise it properly. He was at a huge disadvantage with Voldemort having more experience than him. It was his duty to see to it that he levelled the playing field. They made use of their new armor, they found that it protected them better than even battle robes and it was easier to move more fluidly. As of yet, they hadn't had the chance to take a proper look at the weapons. While Harry was told how they worked, using them was a different matter entirely.

 

“Great work Harry.” Remus smiled slightly as they left. “You truly are your father's son. What was that pink monstrosity you transfigured my clothes into?”

 

Harry snickered. “A mankini. Stupid name I know, but who am I to tell Muggles what they call their inventions? It distracted you, though. I won't do that to Voldemort because that will distract me more than him. I have one scar from him already thanks, I don't need another. Maybe I'll give him a wig.”

 

Remus snorted. “What kind of wig?”

 

He bit his lip in thought. “How about blond dreadlocks?”

 

Remus raised both eyebrows. “Now that I would like to see. Care for a few drinks, Harry? I know you take me as the responsible one of The Marauders but you're at home and I've been meaning to show a way to thank you for saving me from certain death. What better way to express my gratitude than to explain the joys of a hangover? Not me personally but James and Sirius had terrible ones, the wolf isn't drunk easily, it takes a lot of alcohol.”

 

Harry smirked. “Let's see just how much alcohol shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the next chapter where the fun happens xD This is just leading up to the fun.


	17. He Did What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks are shared, stories are told and something happens to Harry, which can only happen to Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for this chapter! However if you've read Chapter 3, you're very much aware of what path my humor tends to go down ;)

The two of them had found a rather respectable mini bar of sorts. Well a cellar really, it had almost every drink known to mankind. They picked out the non-expensive drinks not meant for a particularly special occasion, the ones which were purely designed to get you pissed the quickest. That was their only aim. Not to impress, just to drink.

 

  
They did start off at the sofa but instead, they both rested with their backs against the sofa on the floor. There were a few stains here and there, mainly Harry. Remus was tipsy but Harry was well on his way to getting shitfaced. It was just as well he was sat down otherwise gravity would've done it for him, they'd found out he was a clumsy drunk if the bump on his forehead was anything to go by.

 

“Y've got to me shittin' me.” Harry managed to gasp through hiccups.

 

“I'm not.” Remus shook his head seriously, though the effect failed as his eyes were unfocused, with a stupid grin on his face. “They were in a broom closet, Malfoy and Snape. James and Lily as Head Boy and Girl were doing their rounds for the night and heard some noises. I tagged along, mainly because I was bored. I am equal parts glad I did but also regret it. The globes of Snape's arse could easily be mistaken for the moon I howl at once a month, he's so pale. If I didn't know any better I'd think Malfoy was having sex with a corpse because he looked so dead. Snape Junior looked just as dead.”

 

Without no explanation at all, Harry started sniffling.

 

“Oh god 'm so sorry.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve and drank deeply from his glass. At this point, Remus could piss in a glass and he'd still drink it because otherwise, he couldn't tell the difference. “N' one d'serves to see such an 'orrible sight, him, naked. I mean if it was Malfoy alone it'd be good, he's kind of sexy in his own way." here Harry hiccuped a few times before his head fell onto Remus' shoulder. “But Snape? I'm sorry you had to go through that, no one not even Voldemort or Dumbledore has to see such an awful sight!”

 

Here he wrapped his arms around Remus in his imitation of a hug, but it was almost crushing the man's ribs.

 

“I'm fine, not scarred in any way.” “Much,” he added, seeing the despairing look on the younger man's face. "Snape skulked out after a points loss and detention but even with no clothes on Malfoy remained composed, walking with his back ramrod straight and a haughty look on his face as though he hadn't been found in a compromising position with Snape sexually.”

 

Remus nudged Harry. “Want some blackmail material?”

 

Harry's glassy eyes looked into Remus, his grip around him loosened now that he knew he wasn't too scarred. “Go on then.”

 

“Malfoy has a one-inch pecker.” he whispered into Harry's ear.

 

“Ahaaaa!” Harry knew he was laughing, but to him, it really did sound like sobbing.

 

“It was still erect as he walked down the hallway. I think they were just about to do the business until they were caught red-handed, so to speak.”

 

“I might not remember what y' jus' said, but good t' know.” Harry downed his drink as his drunk mind was determined to remember this detail, there was no way he wasn't going to mention it to Malfoy senior sometime.

 

Following the story and blackmail material was several minutes of drinking, a few toasts and a game of truth or dare. Harry still hadn't told Remus everything which had happened at Hogwarts so far other than his 3rd year but it all came spilling out, if not in a coherent way. There was a 50-50 chance that Remus would remember what Harry had told him and have a further discussion, or he would completely forget, depending on how drunk he got.

 

He visibly jumped as a shout rang loud and clear next to him.

 

“YES, I'M FINALLY DRUNK, FUCK YOU MOONY!” He made a 2 fingered gesture with both hands waving his arms repeatedly. He stood up shakily, only to face-plant on the floor.

 

In a moment of rational thinking, Harry spoke up. “I think we've had enough.”

 

A snore answered his statement.

 

* * *

 

 

It was 9 am. Harry had no clue how he'd managed to find his bed and the loud snores next door indicated that Remus had too. Perhaps they guided each other? He was surprised to note that other than his itchy eyes and dry mouth, he didn't seem to be suffering from the effects of a hangover. His head wasn't pounding and remarkably clear, all things considering. He'd pass it off as a fluke but he was sure he'd drank enough to warrant a killer one. He was for once in his life thankful that he was Harry Potter, the non-hangover guy. Now that was a title he'd rather have.

 

_**"Hello."** _

 

_“Greetings!”_

 

_“Morning.”_

 

To anyone else, if spoken aloud, it would just be various animal noises but to Harry, he knew it was Aela, Lume and Thanatos greeting him. He didn't speak as much with Aela as he did with his animagi, the reason being that Aela had told him that once reunited with the Basilisk in the chamber of secrets, she would be happier to speak with him as a living creature than she is as part of an animated tattoo. Lume and Thanatos are a part of him and therefore have more common ground, but she wasn't as much. She could feel the soul of the snake call to her and she was glad that Harry was returning to Hogwarts in a few days.

 

“Morning.” he greeted quietly, still a bit groggy. He was in the process of getting up when a thought and somewhat familiar memories of the previous night struck him.

 

“Oh no, I didn't.” Harry groaned, torn between wanting to laugh or cry. Even when getting drunk at home he was a danger to himself and Remus was no help, responsible one of the Marauders or not. If he could recall correctly and at least for this part he could, he and Remus sent a joint howler addressed to Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, to arrive upon the continuation of an OOTP meeting. How they managed to set that up in their state at the time Harry didn't know, but he was just thankful that the manor was so well protected. He didn't remember ever attaching a howler to Hedwig, so if it did arrive, it wasn't by owl. He remembered some bits, but others were a complete blank. He did wonder if a meeting was scheduled that very same night....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little cliffie :P I've changed the ending of this chapter and switched some others around, because looking back on what I had written didn't make sense. I'm just glad I noticed before posting!


	18. Banter of the drunken kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry & Remus send a drunken howler, shaking things up literally and mentally. Dumbledore and Snape can't catch a break it seems! But who would want them to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was good fun and I hope it's equally so to read :)

It was another meeting of the Order of the Phoenix and Arthur was, to put it politely, bored. He was sure he'd be bored for the past several years if not for Remus always speaking with him, as he was not blinded by the godly image Albus portrayed as were many of the other order members, including his wife. She trusted a little too much, while he preferred to err on the side of caution. Tonks, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Ginny and Minerva looked to be of the same opinion as him. Sirius did too, until his death. It was the loss of a good man, who he would always think fondly of, despite what they all thought before evidence came to light.

 

He was worried about his youngest son, however. It was subtle but over the years, he'd noticed how many trips Ron had spoken of to the headmaster's office. What did the headmaster want with him? The same question still applied now as he'd often spotted Ron speaking with Albus within Grimmauld Place, for an unknown reason.

 

What was even more worrying to him was the sudden disappearance of Remus and the way that Harry was being treated. These days they barely talked about Voldemort, the weekly meetings were about Harry and how to bring him back over to 'The side of the light.'

 

To Arthur, Gryffindor he may be, but there is truly no light nor dark, only intentions. The things which Albus has done has bordered on the side of grey, but no one questions his motives and if they do, it's quietly. He prayed that Remus was alright and hopefully with Harry, Running a hand through his thinning red hair, he drank some more tea, idly wishing it was something stronger.

 

He promptly spat out his tea, some soaking into Dumbledore's beard as a nearby window shattered into tiny pieces, as what looked like a flaming comet the size of a Quaffle landed with a hard thump on the table, strangely not setting the wood alight, but leaving a charred little dent when it suddenly dissolved into ash, leaving a crumpled red ball behind.

 

 Just as Albus was about to investigate this, the crumpled red ball straightened itself out into a very recognisable howler, except this one was black. The only time a howler was black, was when more than one person was doing the shouting. It seemed to eye Albus and strangely enough Severus with its beady paper eyes, before opening its mouth and uttering words which Arthur wasn't about to forget anytime soon.

 

“CUMBLEZORE!” Arthur presumed it was an attempt at Albus' surname but was either mispronounced on purpose or by accident. "D'you mind if I nick some of your beard hair? I need s'me knittin' practice an'-” There were several hiccups and coughs breaking the sentence up, where Arthur came to understand 2 things. One, this was the first howler he'd heard where the one sending such a thing wasn't constantly shouting and 2, that someone was Harry.

 

“Your beard would make a nice itchy jumper.” From the mouth of the howler, 2 knitting needles and a pair of scissors emerged. Before anyone could so much as react, his beard was snipped clean off. The man had to settle for the loss of his beard by screaming into his hands as his beard usually soaked up his tears of misery, anguish and anger. They flew far out of everyone's reach, quickly vacating the smashed window and starting what was the beginning of a rather nice jumper.

 

The howler then turned to face Snape, the 2nd voice emerging simultaneously shocking some and pleasing others.

 

“Ah Severus, how lovely it is to speak with you after your most recent murder attempt. I am contacting you asking if you remember shagging Malfoy in the closet, near the 7th floor? I do and I have to say I'm quite scarred. I can't look at the full moon, even as Moony, and not be reminded of a singular arse cheek belonging to you. Did you enjoy being tickled? I say tickled because Malfoy's one-inch pecker was hardly going to satisfy you.”

 

 “Know what Sirius called you after I told him of that incident? The Greasy Cowboy.” Here, people could hear Harry's snort of laughter clearly. After a few seconds of choking, Harry interjected. “So the reason why you keep your hair so greasy, is because you always forget the lube when you're looking for a shag?”

 

 “Harry. You were crying over my being scarred by Snivellus, correct? Now, why would you say that?”

 

“It jus' came t' mind.”

 

“... I think I know the real reason why he threw you out of your Occlumency lessons, minus the fact that he was crap at tutoring you.”

 

“I don't have that problem now, natural barriers since the rest'ration of m' magic.”

 

“Handy that.”

 

“You're tellin' me!”

 

They'd temporarily forgotten that they were sending a howler if the banter was anything to go by. While most were listening to them, others were otherwise occupied.

 

Momentarily distracted, Dumbledore turned ashen white as a murmur of disbelief swept over the table. They were told Remus had defected and 'Gone over to the dark.' with Harry, but the great Albus Dumbledore, attempted murder? Most of the occupants didn't want to believe this, but some allegiances shifted, others were reinforced that they were on the right side, Arthur and Tonks among the latter. He held no loyalty to Albus, not like Molly. He could think for himself and he was going to support his honorary son and his remaining children who chose to see sense.

 

Meanwhile, Tonks was having a rather good time. She was conveniently next to the greasy haired one. It was these times in her life she was thankful for the way she was. In a few seconds, there sat an exact replica of Lucius Malfoy, his hand slowly trailing over the black-clad thighs of the potions master.

 

“Ah, Severus. Would you care to...fondle me? I believe this broom closet here,” A wave of his wand produced said item in the corner, “Will suffice. If you're adequate enough, I may return the favour.”

 

If Dumbledore was ashen, Snape was already dead. He really was the bat of the dungeons, as he swooped from the room faster than anyone could register.

 

Yes, Tonks really did love who she was sometimes. _'The Greasy Cowboy. That name will stick! Oh, the irony.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all I know this howler fact might be legit, but for the purpose of this howler I made that up on the spot xD I have something good planned for the next chapter ;)
> 
> For the Greasy Cowboy reference, see the YouTuber Gertilish. My favourite HP Dubs and in one of them, that name for Snape is used and I laughed for at least 5 minutes when I first heard it xD


	19. The Glitter of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain members of The Order get a fright, allegiances shift and we see this from several different points of view!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter since it's a special occasion :) to those of you who celebrate it, Merry Christmas and I hope you have a wonderful day! You'll get to read my lovely attempt at poetry, it was a last minute idea but I wanted to go for something unique xD

Waiting a few seconds to see if the howler had anything else to say, Tonks drained her coffee. The black envelope imploded on itself, showering dust upon the occupants and a little flew lightning speed, in the direction of the potions master.

  
The rest of the dust sparked alight, floating in the air to form words. From the surrounding room, seemed to echo a whisper of a thousand voices. Those voices called to Snape who had not managed to Floo from the premises in time, the dust compelled him to retake his seat.

 

**We are the essence of times gone by,**

**The judge of morality, an all-seeing eye,**

**Those pure of heart that mean no harm,**

**You're sprinkled in glitter, no need for alarm.**

**They who wronged the sender, malicious intent,**

**Shall be overcome with an obnoxious scent.**

**The scent of nightmares, of paralysing fear,**

**Is it of a loved one, someone they hold dear?**

 

**Perhaps something humiliating, it all depends,**

**Who among you, are truly your friends?**

**With that question in mind, we bid you good night,**

**We eagerly anticipate a fascinating sight.**

 

Arthur did wonder who was the poet among the duo. On a hunch, he would have to guess Remus. He was always the most studious of his group of friends, though there certainly was a chance that Harry had let his creative juices flow. Since Harry 'deflected.' as Albus liked to refer it to, certain members of the Order of The Phoenix had been acting strangely. Severus was always an oddball but his Slytherin side was showing more frequently.

 

Whenever there were no meetings, order members liked to drop by Grimmauld Place for a chat. He was sure Tonks noticed this also, what with her profession, but Albus, Severus, Mad-Eye, Shacklebolt and his son Bill he'd often see chatting in a spare room, with every silencing charm known to mankind on the doors. Normally he wouldn't be suspicious, but that group was as likely to be best friends as You-Know-Who deciding to change his role in life from evil villain extraordinaire to a reformed priest, no chance.

 

Like Arthur, Tonks had noticed the group, perhaps since the very beginning. However, it was only recently that she had become suspicious, what with recent events unfolding. It seemed like the most unlikely group of wizards coming together in a time of war, but tonight confirmed something was wrong. Ron, much to Molly's disapproval, was allowed to attend the Order of The Phoenix meetings now. She didn't think he was emotionally mature enough despite that he had seen more in his young age that what most Aurors had. The truth is though that from what Tonks had heard if it was not for Hermione's quick thinking, Harry and Ron would've died long ago and she was inclined to believe it, the Granger kid was smart and was the perfect example of why blood status doesn't matter.

 

She may be clumsy, but her mind was unaffected and her Auror training was kicking in. As soon as the first word was spoken by the howler of Remus, the same people who spoke with one another as a group unit created a shift in the air. Albus paled rapidly, noticeable even under the trail tracks of tears at the loss of his beard. She felt Snape shifting near her, his beady black eyes narrowing and a vein pulsing in his temple. Mad-Eye's eye was swivelling in his head more rapidly, Kingsley's eyes seemed to look everywhere but at the people surrounding him and Bill started to twiddle his thumbs in nervousness, back in Britain for a while due to the impending war. He'd been given time off work and he'd explained that they were very understanding.

 

As for her, she was more than relieved to hear that Remus was ok. Once, she did have a thing for him but that fizzled and died when she'd learned of his rekindled relationship with Sirius. She wasn't disappointed or saddened at all. In fact, she was happy for the pair as they looked good together. It was a true shame about Sirius, especially since she never got to know one of her few cool family members before his death.

 

She was brought from her puzzling thoughts as the judgement dust, the only name she could think of it, began to work upon 3 occupants in the room, leaving the others unharmed. She noted with some interest that the ones affected were of the 5 in the group she had been thinking about. Gears whirred in her mind and she was beginning to wonder just how Harry and Remus got tangled up with them.

 

Unknown to no one but themselves, Shacklebolt and Bill were affected by the dust turned glitter, just not in the same way as everyone else. While it was harmless, it acted as a removal of all unwillingly placed spells. The voices whispered a warning, a cautionary tale to be more careful while the faint tang of compulsion and loyalty spells drifted away.

 

Mad-Eye was in a nightmare, as were his companions. Right now, he was witnessing the release of all Death Eaters from Azkaban prison, ones which were confirmed dead, very much alive. The minister of magic was now Voldemort and all he could do was sit and watch in horror. Only he could see this, the other occupants of the room were either watching their colleagues in bemusement or had their own fears to deal with.

 

 _'What did I do to deserve this?'_   Snape wondered as he witnessed one of his worst memories to date, more potent once he realised that while the rest of the order couldn't see what he was seeing, they definitely saw the result of his trousers taken down, to be levitated from his seat and hung upside down. To some people's horror who didn't attend the previous meeting and to other's amusement, their magic wiped away the disillusionment charm. Apparently, he hadn't managed to spell his penis in the correct place and it was still on his forehead. Most turned away in disgust, a little green around the gills when they involuntarily learned that he went commando and a mockery of a vagina sat in the place of where his forehead decoration should be. Harry would later look back on this memory, or what there was of it, and caution himself to not play around with drunken magic because he could achieve things with it that he never dreamed of while sober. He wouldn't be sure if it was a good or bad thing, but one thing he did know was that it wouldn't be the last time he cast magic pissed.

 

Ron was starting to regret joining The Order if this was what it entailed. He joined to enforce the good of the light and was glad Lupin was gone. He was nearly killed at 13 by that creature! In his opinion, werewolves were disgusting, certainly not human, the fact that they were human every day with the exception of once or twice per month failed to penetrate that small brain of his. Wherever he was, Ron was pleased it was away from here.

 

He had no regrets turning his back on Potter. Truly they were only friends before he met the greatest wizard there ever was, Albus Dumbledore. He was offered the world and he accepted. His ideal world was fame, power and girls. All evil was to be exterminated and people would look to him for guidance. He wanted to be the second Albus. If he had to steal Potter's belongings and spy on him, so be it. It was for the greater good. Deep down he knew the despite all the training he was receiving, he wasn't a strong fighter. What he wanted required hard work and that wasn't in his vocabulary.

 

An involuntary shudder ran down his spine. His freckles were like flecks of lava on ice as the glitter didn't affect him, but the voices did.

 

**Enemy once friend, there's a wind of change,**

**Avada Green eyes, a colour so strange.**

**They hold power, to shake Wizarding kind,**

**What side are you on, the perceiving or blind?**

**The Elder One, the shadow hiding in light,**

**Has caused greater damage, left me in a plight.**

**Ronald, while you haven't wronged me as great,**

**Careful of the path you take, lest share the same fate.**

 

Unlike the other voices, this sounded distinctly like Harry. Since Harry was currently in bed sleeping off alcohol, he had created glitter which went beyond the mere substance, somehow.

 

Either way Ron was shaken up, but unfortunately convinced himself it was nothing more than a practical joke. He had every intention of continuing his destination, with no route changes.

 

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had arguably the worst nightmare. It was the case for all of these men, but while one was the worst fear, another was a past memory, his was a memory with cold, hard fact. The one fact which if it got out, not even his many titles could help him worm his way out of the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be fun, the memory will be of Albus' run in with Alistair and his brother Solomon, why he went missing and some shocking things :P Oh and also it won't be until Tuesday the 3rd since I posted early, just to clear things up if people get confused :)


	20. Plans of Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Remus' drunken glittered dust howler showered the guilty ones with their worst fears. Albus is taken many years back, to watch the past deeds he'd committed for the greater good. How are Alistair and Solomon tied up in this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this time, by a little bit! I hope you all had a good Christmas to those who celebrate and those who don't, a good day. Let's hope that 2017 is a better year than 2016 :)

It was a strange sensation, Albus would later note. A half of his brain was aware that this was not happening right now, but the other was wholly convinced that he was back in 1922. He was watching through his younger eyes but was still self-aware. In all his years he hadn't encountered magic quite like this. The Pensieve's abilities would be the closest to it.

 

Back then, he was still at the stage where he had a lot to learn. He was considered young by Wizard standards, due to the average life expectancy. He rarely questioned his actions because what he did, was for the greater good.

 

* * *

 

 

July 1922, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

 

“Creaking bones at my age is never a good sign.” Albus murmured to himself, resting his aching back in the threadbare armchair which resided in his office. He barely took a glance at the newspaper in front of him before tossing it aside in disgust.

 

_Daily Prophet_

 

_The Vampire attacks continue_

 

_Yesterday evening, it was confirmed by several eyewitnesses that there has been an increase in the number of Vampires and as a result, more attacks. Victims are always found in the same position; Bodies drained dry of blood, carelessly laid on the street as one would throw rubbish._

 

_“I was terrified,” says Amanda Burns of The Thistle Inn. “I was on my way home from work, about to buy some dinner when this man walks by me, moaning about the sun. I'm sure I saw a glint of white fang in his mouth.”_

 

_Are we prepared for the Vampires, or will they continue to slaughter us one by one? This reporter tried to get a statement from the Auror department, but no comments were made._

 

_Will the attacks continue, or will our saviour step out from the shadows?_

 

_Miranda Archwood_

 

He poured a little scotch into his tankard, the news these days and the students he taught warranted something a bit stronger. “Filthy creatures. There is only room for the light in this world, no Vampires, no Werewolves. Especially no Vampires.”

 

He hated them. He hated them with such loathing, only Dark Lords could beat that hatred. Miranda's line about a saviour stuck out at him. There was only one man he knew who would help him in his quest to eradicate the Vampires. Jeremiah Buckle.

 

* * *

 

  
The Lothaire Family Castle, Transylvania

 

“My dear brother, you do know that this will have serious consequences?” Alistair questioned, one eyebrow elegantly arched. The pair were seated at the Dining table, a decanter of the finest pixie blood between them. The Daily Prophet had branches globally, so the news was spread fast.

 

“They are not noble. They have no honour and no understanding of how the world works. Something had to be done.” Solomon pierced Alistair with a serious gaze, his sparkling silver eyes trying to convey his passion.

 

“I understand and I agree with you, but couldn't you have perhaps slaughtered them away from prying eyes? You know Muggle Vampires share no resemblance to the creatures they once were when dead." he took a sip of his drink, savouring the taste. Pixie blood was rare, rich and excellent for if a Vampire was ever in ill health. Phoenix and Unicorn blood are more potent. However, they must be willingly given.

 

“They had to be made an example of. Muggle and Magical Vampires alike roam out there. We only kill if necessary, if the body has recently died or we take our pick of the guilty. They do not. They prey on the innocents. Women, children, the elderly. We are looked down upon due to the actions of the non-magical kind and Alistair, it's infuriating.” his solemn gaze wavered.

 

Of the two of them, Solomon was the more serious one. Sometimes though, his passion clouded his judgement and when Alistair wasn't using his wit or charm to win someone over, he would often step in and lend a hand. They worked as a unit and often took part in recreational activities together. Alistair could play the piano beautifully and Solomon had a lovely singing voice.

 

Magical Vampires, unlike Muggle Vampires, could alter their appearance. Truly, it was only their fangs that gave them away. There were a few races out there including the Elves which shared their unusual eye colour, so any suspicion was averted if they simply mentioned their Elven lineage, which could perhaps in part be true.

 

Theatres in several different countries would request performances by the pair. A simple blur of memories would stop the requests from being too overwhelming, so they could pick and choose where they wanted to go.

 

Solomon usually kept to himself, but year by year was coming out of his shell more. It was hard not to with Alistair as a brother, he'd make sure he was noticed in a crowd of millions. He was never very expressive unlike his elder brother but often showed his feelings through his body language rather than facial expressions. The little smiles that Alistair could sometimes coax out of him always made it worthwhile.

 

Alistair was a dab hand with wandless magic and the elements. Anything magical was his strong point. Solomon was a master of the mind, Telekinesis and Telepathy were his specialities, but many of the weapons in the armory were enchanted my Solomon, originally learned from their father so many years ago. He favoured a katana if they were in hand to hand combat. Alistair was proficient with weapons but preferred magic.

 

They were practically newborn vampires, Alistair at 20, when everything started to go wrong.

 

Their father was an ancient vampire at 3,000 years old. The older a Vampire lived to, the more they were watched and the more that other Vampires were cautious. He became careless and somewhat cocky, thinking that none of them would try anything. He was a good man, he upheld the Vampire code, but little mistakes here and there ensured his death. a large clan of Vampires cornered him after a session with The Vampire Council, at least half being master. While he had tremendous power, he didn't have the endurance to fight off all of them and was quickly overwhelmed. A master Vampire by the name of Liea drained him of every drop of magical blood he owned, increasing her strength. It was a fight to the death and hundreds of vampires lost their lives that day. It's unknown if Liea was among them.

 

Their mother loved their father very much and despite the years she had lived, she didn't cope with her husband's death. It happened gradually, bit by bit, creeping up on their once tight-knit family. It was still a blow to the two brothers that they never noticed a thing until it was too late.

 

She'd drink a little blood here and there but eventually stopped. Weeks turned into months without blood. Her magic and soon her life began to fade until one day, she collapsed, never to wake up again.

 

Alistair shook himself from those saddening thoughts, or they were at the time. These days they were more a shadow of a memory which had once been, living as long as they had, that was bound to happen. He grasped Solomon's pale hands in his own slightly darker skinned ones.

 

“I know Lunar, I know.” A hand found its way to Solomon's inky black waves, settling at the back of his head. The short strands flowed through his hands easily and he felt his brother slowly relax into him. They were the closest siblings you might ever meet. He'd often do this for Solomon, particularly with the death of their parents but now, it was simply a sign of affection. He didn't regularly call his brother Lunar. It was more a show of comfort than anything else, a reminder of all the times he sat beneath the moonlight, harvesting the cooled metals to carve and hammer into various useful magical objects.

 

“Are you thinking of Mother and Father again?”

 

 At first, he was momentarily startled by Solomon's question but soon recovered. He could be very perceptive when he wasn't daydreaming or occupied with something else.

 

“Yes. They often pop into my head. Occasionally I wonder how much different our lives would be." Alistair allowed a sigh to escape. He was thankful that he still had his brother. He spoke with no one else. He had tried but once they knew what he was, they were afraid and wanted nothing to do with him. Was it too much to one day find a human who wouldn't shun him for who he was? He had a foolish kind of hope that one day it would change for him.

 

A small smile appeared on his face when soft fingertips began to play with the strands of his hair, the single braid and non-braided hair reached the middle of his back, a loose ribbon for his usual ponytail. He'd decided to let his hair grow for once, beyond the usual shoulder length. Solomon tried to once but he found the extra hair cumbersome, so he kept it short.

 

“Don't focus on what could be. Focus on what can be.” Solomon advised, finally straightening in his seat, a relaxed expression upon his face as he drank deeply from his goblet.

 

“Wise words," Alistair nodded in approval, "If only more would heed them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all don't mind about this blast in the past, I've written it out and it's going to end up being a few chapters. It was quite literally a last minute idea but I thought maybe learning more about Alistair and his family and also Dumbledore (at least my version xD) would be good to know.


	21. The Guild of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus has a plan. After The Daily Prophet's article, he was determined to be the hero which the people didn't need, but deserved. To do this, though, he would need some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I thought it would be overwhelming for me to have a chapter every week, but I enjoy working towards something :)

Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade

 

Albus wisely chose the table furthest from his brother. Ever since Ariana's death, they've never seen eye to eye and Aberforth barely tolerated him. The only reason he wasn't barred was because it would be bad for business.

 

A subtle cough alerted Albus to Jeremiah's presence.

 

Jeremiah Buckle was perhaps one of the most prejudiced people you could ever meet, but to Albus, he was merely cautious. In his 5th year, Jeremiah had caught his eye when he stood up for a fellow classmate getting bullied by some of the older students. He was a Ravenclaw, didn't even draw his wand. He instead used his words to influence them to leave the area. Using the Slytherin side of him which he denied, Albus sensed an opportunity. The kid would go places and he would be good to have on his side in a fight.

 

At the age of 18, Vampires slaughtered his entire family, leaving only distant relations left. Albus never did ask for the details, only that there were no magic traces, which indicated that the Vampires were Muggle. It made no difference to him, magical or not magical, they were all cold hearted blood sucking creatures. Why take the time to get to know them if they'd sooner sink their fangs into your throat? It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

 

Jeremiah now worked in the ministry, the go between for communications between magical creatures and wizards. It gave him the unique opportunity to learn valuable information about each race, particularly the Vampires, to see if one or two more restrictive laws could be added to the long list.

 

Placing a few notice me not charms, he watched as his friend placed a few paper files onto the table.

 

“Names and places of people who are suspected Vampires, or who are suspected of knowing Vampires.” He stated bluntly, never one to waste words. “There are one or two members of the Auror Department who may be willing to help.” At Albus' sharp look, he quickly carried on, “I casually dropped in conversation their opinion of Vampires. Some were indifferent but most wanted to take action against them.”

 

“Good.” Albus nodded, taking a swig of Firewhisky which he was all too fond of. “See if you can let them know that there are people who want to put a stop to the Vampires and their heinous crimes.” His eyes shifted from side to side in slight paranoia. Though he knew very few people had the magic level to break one of his spells, it never hurts to be cautious.

 

“We are ready to target the names on that list whenever you are.” Jeremiah's eyes lit up. While Albus saw it as a job which needed to be done, Jeremiah relished the thought. He was Death Eater material if you looked at him from a different angle, but he chose to ignore that in favour of help.

 

Deciding to put an end to the short meeting he stood up, leaving a few sickles on the table as a gesture of goodwill, which would probably be ignored. “Whoever wishes to help, report back to me as soon as you can with information on them.”

 

“Of course.”

 

With that, the two men departed, as though they hadn't been discussing the desire to wipe out an entire species.

 

* * *

 

Albus cursed his rotten luck. Dippet really was an old fool, an old fool who apparently couldn't be bothered to do his job, if the documents which needed a signature by the Headmaster was any indication. A half hour later he was done, he had just enough time to recline back in his seat, a cup of strong tea with scotch added in as a delivery owl flew through the open window, a half inch thick file full of what he presumed was Jeremiah's information on potential witches and wizards to help them take action against the Vampires. As he went through the files, it became clear to him that he'd listed the ones who really did want to help, no matter the background and skill level and he'd left it up to him to weed out the desirable ones. It was fine by him. Through the papers he went, creating a pile of the ones he wouldn't consider, the ones he would and the ones which he possibly would. Some of them were rather ludicrous.

 

_Name: Harold Gerner_

_Age: 29_

_Occupation: Cleaner at Ireland's Magical Menagerie_

_Reason for wanting to help: I clean up after magical creatures. Usually, I take home a sample of feathers, furs or anything which has been left behind by the animal to study at my leisure. I believe hunting Vampires will be an excellent research opportunity, a_ _fang shaving or a sample of blood would do, no wasteful killing needed._

 

No wasteful killing needed? While the man may be willing to join in on the job, he couldn't take anyone who wasn't willing to kill the creatures. The next one, however, looked promising.

 

_Name: Ori Sanders_

_Age: 40_

_Occupation: Auror at the British Ministry of Magic_

_Reason for wanting to help: I've been with the Aurors since the age of 21. I've seen a hell of a lot of innocents dead at the hands of those bloodsuckers and if the law isn't willing to eradicate them, I'm more than happy to join forces with someone who will help to get the job done. If I am accepted, I will kill them without remorse nor mercy._

 

Now, this was more like it, the kind of people that Albus needed. She was definitely in. Now, he just had to go through the rest of them.

 

An hour later, there were a lot of files and some not even from the UK, he had a team of 5, 7 including him and Jeremiah. The others he had picked, he was confident in his choices.

 

_Name: Sara Wright_

_Age: 25_

_Occupation: Hitwizard (Secret Auror Service of America)_

_Reason for wanting to help: They just creep me out. I have a good track record, I haven't failed a job yet. My parents are Hitwizards, they trained me since I was small. Plus the pay is more than I'd usually get for_   _a job._

 

_Name: Matthew Bell_

_Age: 43_

_Occupation: Potions Master_

_Reason for wanting to help: I have some volatile potions I would like to test out. What better way to do so than by practising on Vampire scum? The Vampires die, I get to confirm if my concoctions will work. Everyone wins._

 

_Name: Maya Sharp_

_Age: 21_

_Occupation: Training to be a Mediwitch_

_Reason for wanting to help: I graduated from Beauxbatons with top grades. A single vampire drained my brother and sister of their blood and I want revenge. If there's one extra person helping in this fight, then the odds are already better. I may be young, but I'm determined to bring the fight to them._

 

_Name: Sullivan Rowe_

_Age: 31_

_Occupation: International Trader (By ship or broom flight)_

_Reason for wanting to help: There's only so many times your cargo can be intercepted by thirsty Vampires looking for a drink. I tell you, transporting animals is a nightmare. Then I get the blame because I can't stop Vampires from having a drink! If anything, I want to rid the world of them so I can do my bloody job._

 

Confident with his choices, it was only a matter of time for Albus to contact these people and get to work.

 

The Guild of Light was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up now! Will Albus justify any future actions he may take for The Greater Good, or will he and The Guild of Light succeed in eradicating the true problematic Vampires?


	22. The Route to Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guild of Light perform their first act of cleansing. It's all for the greater good, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd leave a warning when the writing isn't Light-Hearted, so here it is! Violence, OC Character deaths in this chapter and the next one.

It was several weeks later, about a month before Hogwarts began accepting old and new students alike. It was difficult to organise a time where they could all meet up weekly and eradicate the targets one by one, but they managed it.

 

“Welcome everyone, to the first meeting of the Guild of Light. We all know why we're here, to help rid the world of the abominations known as Vampires.” He stated, getting straight to the point. Future Albus disapproved. Where was all the suspense, the dramatic pause? He seemed to forget that he was supposed to be a leader, not a pantomime actor.

 

There were murmurs of agreement, but the members stayed quiet, ready to hear what their leader had to say. No one was of any specific rank or had a differing position, they were all seated at a round table, chairs the same.

 

“I have decided that in order to prove your loyalty, you will all be marked by the symbol of the guild of light. You will feel a mild pain in your forearm, whichever arm is up to you.”

 

Voices were less sure this time, but no one wanted to back out now. They wanted to help and if this was the way to do it, so be it.

 

“Jeremiah and I already have ours, yours is yet to come.”

 

The design was very simple, a phoenix in mid-flight. What better creature to represent their cause than one of the lightest there is? The sunset markings of the feathers and the piercing blue eyes shone on skin.

 

They would be connected through magic. A member in danger would alert the others by a faint pulse which would radiate from the Phoenixes. The leader tapped a wand to his or her own forearm to send a warning pulse for emergency situations, that everyone was to leave for the calling area as quickly as possible. It still had a bit of tweaking and possibly extra additions, but Albus was happy with the result.

 

Maya buckled under the slight pain, but she was ever more determined to see it through, as were the rest of the members. With them, would bring a change that the wizarding world would be thankful for.

 

Over a short period of time, other details about who would be working with who and what rank each member would be were sorted out. Jeremiah who is deputy master and Matthew their potioneer would partner with Albus, the Master. Ori, their commander, would partner with Sara, their assassin. Which left Sullivan and Maya as the members which would offer support to the 2 teams which needed it, healing if possible and their second line of defence.

 

The clothing was simple robes, embroidered with a second colour according to rank. The base colour was silver. Albus in gold, Jeremiah in Silver, Matthew in blue, Ori in bronze, Maya in green and Sullivan in red. It was simple, yet effective for what they wanted.

 

Their first target was a family of Vampires who lived in Brighton, England. The family was apparently well known and liked but to their eyes, The Vampires had obviously used magic to influence the minds of the folk around them.

 

“Everyone ready?” Albus asked. At their nods, they simultaneously apparated to just outside the magical community of that small town.

 

“I've never been to Brighton, it's very pretty.” Maya smiled slightly, enjoying the peacefulness of the place.

 

A sneering voice sidled alongside her. “It will be even prettier with Vampire blood spilt.”

 

She found Jeremiah creepy and capable of things which she knew she wasn't. As long as he kept his distance, she was fine but secretly glad she was with Sullivan.

 

She nodded silently, focused on the task ahead. They got quite a few head turns in their robes, some assuming they were practising monks. They didn't often receive visitors and were curious as to what brought them here.

 

The Morganti family lived at the higher end of the magical community, the central mansion. They were not fully fledged Vampires, only over the age of 500 were you considered an adult.

 

Enoc Morganti was 300 years of age and a well-respected businessman. He had a lot of connections with the Vampire community despite his young age because he had the drive to prove himself. He worked in spell creation where he met his wife of 195 years of age, Ava.

 

None of them hunted after humans as they saw it as an unnecessary waste. Creature blood wasn't bad at all, it just didn't satisfy the bloodlust as strongly, but the pair of them could live comfortably off it. The only magic against humans which they used, was a memory blur charm to stop others from questioning why they never seemed to age a day. In a magical community, it would be easier to come out as Vampires, but they didn't like to take the risk.

 

They were foster parents, many children had passed through their home and gone on to be respectable adults. They had no children of their own but it was their wish to one day try. They had 2 foster children. A 6-year-old girl and a 10-year-old boy, Jeremiah hadn't been able to get further details on that.

 

After a few point me spells, The group soon found their destination. They decided to take the non-violent approach at first, state that they were here to talk about religious beliefs. Albus was unsure on the plan, but Jeremiah assured him that they were open-minded, 'For blood sucking things anyway.'

 

The others waited a foot or so back while Albus rapped lightly on the door. A few seconds later, a petite and beautiful woman opened the door, her red hair in a single plait.

 

“Hello, can I help you?” she smiled politely, not suspecting the malicious intent.

 

“Yes. We are conducting a study of the different faiths which people follow and how they differ from place to place.” he lied.

 

Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, well we're not religious, but I would be happy to discuss my opinions with you.”

 

It was easier than Albus had thought. He took a moment to observe his surroundings, as he felt his team come in behind him.

 

“Enoc!” Ava called. “Some nice ladies and gentlemen are conducting a study on differing faiths.”

 

“Oh, that's nice.” he called back, voice getting increasingly louder as he came in with a child on his hip.

 

“Emily, see if you can find your brother and stay with him while we talk, ok honey?” he placed her down on the ground, his blue eyes piercing Albus' own ones.

 

“Yes, father.” She shot a wary glance at the strangers, before sauntering off.

 

The pair turned to them expectantly but before they could so much as react, they each removed a crucifix from underneath their robe, shining upon them.

 

Most people think that like Sunlight, the sight of the crucifix burns Vampires. In truth, it was more of a phobia, about half of Vampires got over their irrational fear and were unaffected. Ava and Enoc were not among the few. He wrapped his arms around his wife, shielding himself as much as her.

 

“We are The Guild of Light, a force that eradicates all that which is not good or pure. It is our mission to exterminate any Vampires we can locate. Your deaths will be a blessing, you will no longer have to live with yourselves and your murdering ways and we can live on, a few more Vampires free.”

 

No emotion was projected into those words. They were as theoretically dead as The Vampires before them, as the group spoke in unison.

 

Albus had thought of how he was going to say it, deciding that words would be wasted on these creatures, he kept it relatively short.

 

“W-What have we done to you?” Enoc managed to gasp out.

 

“You live. That is enough.” Albus' eyes held no warmth, not like the gaze which was so desperately trying to meet his.

 

“Sullivan, Maya, find the children.”

 

“NO, DON'T HURT THEM!” Ava screamed out among her fear, trying to get her limbs to move of their own will.

 

“Crucio!”

 

Albus did not order this but watched as Jeremiah held Ava under one of the 3 unforgivable curses. Ori shot a cutting curse at Enoc's arm which was trying to protect his wife.

 

A few seconds later, the pair were trembling. One from torture, the other from fear.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

Pitiless voices of Lumos Maxima rang throughout the room, a darkness charm hiding the worst of the light from their own eyes, but fatal to the couple.

 

Sunlight was more deadly than fire. Fire will hurt almost any race, light in certain doses too. The Sun was fine in regular doses much like a human, but direct close exposure, especially with injuries, aggravated and fried the nerves running through the entire body. The Vampire body dries from the inside out, blood no longer running through the veins and instead becoming dry and flaky. All the major organs without a blood supply would fail, killing the recipient.

 

The soundproof charms they'd cast upon entry of their home held, as the screams stayed within the walls of the mansion.


	23. Choices Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guild of Light had eliminated the immediate threat, but the fate of the last 2 remaining family members had yet to be decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few of you expressed your hate for The Guild of Light last chapter. If you didn't want to kill them before, you will now. It's a far cry from my light-hearted writing but I always did envision Dumbledore with a darker past than people were lead to believe.

Albus was second guessing himself, something which he never did. He was lost for about a minute in contemplation of the route he was taking. Yes, they may be blood drinkers but in death, they sounded remarkably familiar. He wasn't completely out of compassion, he was working to better mankind. He had lost count over the admittedly short amount of years he'd lived, hearing of tales of the blood drinkers, children left as orphans, good people losing family members. If no one wanted to take action, it was his duty to step up. _'for the greater good.'_   he told himself.

 

It was a few minutes later when Sullivan and Maya returned, with 2 extra additions. Both were resolute and silent, but something was reflected in Emily's eyes that Albus had yet to see on one so young; resignation. To what he didn't know, but the look in her eyes was disconcerting, it was like she knew everything, his innermost secrets, everything which she shouldn't.

 

“What do we do with them?” Ori spoke up for the first time, contemplating, unable to help herself from gazing at the lavish decoration of the room they currently occupied.

 

Sullivan and Maya unconsciously took a protective stance, unknown to them.

 

“Can't take the risk.” Jeremiah growled, studying the children as one would dirt at the bottom of a shoe, “We need to eliminate all threats. For all we know, they've been bitten.”

 

“But they're children!” Sullivan protested, only to be silenced by Jeremiah's and then Matthew's glare.

 

“Jeremiah's right,” he stated, matter of factly. “I haven't had a chance to test my potions yet. I request that one over there.” he pointed rudely at the boy. In his eyes, they weren't children, but Vampires. Vampires who to him were deadly no matter what age. If his creations helped mankind to flourish and he needed some Vampire guinea pig to test them on, what was the harm?

 

“His name is Jacob.” Emily spoke firmly, staring at Matthew.

 

Matthew sneered in return.

 

Albus' words were damning. Not only to the child he condemned his fate to, but to himself and the path which he would take.

 

“Very well. Just make sure he's not able to say what happened here.” Albus stroked his short beard, genuinely more concerned about the repercussions if the wrong people were to find out about this than the child he'd condemned to death.

 

Sullivan and Maya sent a glance each other's way. Subtle enough that the other members didn't catch on. Yes, they were not a fan of Vampires, but wiping out children just because they could possibly be Vampires? It was madness. Children weren't born evil, they were shaped that way. The Guild of Light lost 2 members that day.

 

Ori didn't like to see any children in pain or hurt, but she reasoned with herself that they were not human, they were less than human, despite having children of her own. Sara viewed this as merely another job, she never let her emotions get in the way but if she did, she had a feeling she wouldn't care.

 

Emily looked Jacob's way and held his hand for a moment. “Goodbye, Jacob. Don't let him get to you. Stay strong, for father and mother.”

 

He had a second to look into her eyes with his own distressed gaze before he was dragged away by the potions master.

 

The child's soulful brown eyes didn't look at any of the remaining Guild members, merely stared fixedly ahead.

 

“I've always wanted to use this.” Jeremiah's gravelly voice broke the thick silence, as he transfigured a huge pointed stake.

 

“Is this really necessary?” Sara spoke up, bewildered. “Just AK her and be done with it.”

 

“They can trace spells, fool!” Jeremiah snarled, causing a hiss to emerge from the irritated Hitwizard. “Albus and I are willing to get the job done no matter what it takes, it's for the betterment of this world.” He turned to Emily, a faint smile on his face, the light in his eyes an indication that he enjoyed killing. None of them tried to stop what happened. Battle-hardened Auror Ori had to look away, while Albus and Sara watched. One in grim satisfaction, the other assured this was for the best.

 

She met her killer's eyes, as the stake plunged into her small, regular beating heart. She was no Vampire, she was from The Orphanage a few miles away and slowly got introduced to the idea of Vampires and became wholly accepting of it. Jeremiah twisted the stake with such force, they heard the audible crack of ribs, the point peeking from her other side. The already alarming amount of blood increased, staining the carpet below her. Her body drained of all colour and as blood dribbled down her chin to drip onto the floor from where she knelt, Jeremiah finally released his grip on the wood. Her now unfocused and unseeing eyes seemed to slip about the room and land upon the remaining occupants, focusing for just a second. Her final words ripping the blinds from another member's eyes.

 

“I forgive you.”

 

As her tiny body, even smaller in death sank to the floor, Sullivan and Maya swallowed back bile, allowing themselves a little comfort in knowing that she was with her adoptive parents now.

 

While Ori looked away, she couldn't block out the final words of a child. What was she doing here, what was she thinking? The reason why she joined with the Aurors, to begin with, was to uphold justice and to protect the innocents. That child held no hint of malice, bloodlust or anything remotely associated with a Vampire and she was murdered in cold blood. She wanted no part of this. While Sullivan and Maya would leave together, Ori would return to her work and send a short note to Albus.

 

Just then Matthew returned, stains littered his robes, some looking suspiciously blood like.

 

Albus shook his head, not really wanting to know the details. “Did you do what needed to be done?"

 

“Oh yes.” Matthew nodded, rubbing his hands together. “I know exactly what tweaking my creations need and which ones work to perfection. You don't need to worry about Jacob.” Jacob was laced with tones of mockery, as though he didn't deserve a name and to Matthew, that was true.

 

“We're done here.” Albus finally spoke. As the Guild of Light left, anything but goodness shrouded their auras. A subtle notice me not charm to cover the area around and to the side of them to reduce the risk of suspicion was performed, as their first task as a group was complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit shorter than usual, I think my average chapter length is in between 1,000-2,000 words. It's more what comes to mind at the time but considering what this chapter is, it's probably a relief. There's nothing like this in the next chapter, not to this extreme.


	24. Both Sides of the Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lothaire brothers come to visit family, only to find out the worst. Meanwhile Albus has a plan, where he's determined to succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say sorry for the delay, but technically I'm on time :P it's just I usually post at midnight but forgot to.

Alistair & Solomon-Morganti Manor

 

“I'm looking forward to our visit, it has been a long time since we last saw them.” Solomon smiled slightly in fondness of Emily. She's a bright child, has so much spirit and a lot to offer. He knew he shouldn't pick favourites, but he was aware that Alistair had a fondness for Emily too. Jacob was very protective of her, but sometimes it was the other way around. They weren't raised in the orphanage together and were introduced to one another when Ava brought her home to meet her new brother. They hit it off from there and the rest was history.

  
A subtle shift beside him indicated that Alistair had stopped in his tracks and was tense. It only took a moment later for the younger brother to understand why.

 

“Dark intended magic seeps from the Morganti Manor.” Alistair murmured to himself, the powerful notice me not charm didn't stand a chance against his magical experience. Senses were heightened for him, very much similar to a werewolf but it was more related to his magical level than him being a Vampire. Pain and, was that blood? Clouded his senses. His emotional side wanted to rush in immediately, but his logical side took over. Solomon came to a stop beside him, each sharing a look to the other to be cautious.

 

It seemed as if all external sound was blocked out, as the duo's boot cladded feet clacked upon the path to the manor. The door was ever so slightly ajar and Alistair was acquainted with an emotion he'd nearly forgotten he possessed; nervousness. He turned to Solomon.

 

“Is there anything in the air which you sense that I don't? I know that your study of the mind allows you to have a deeper connection with spells which do affect it. I sense pain, but not what kind.”

 

Eyes hardening to chips of ice, Solomon spoke words which Alistair would have rather not heard.

 

“The Cruciatus Curse.”

 

Alistair closed his eyes in preparation. Whoever was here had left, the peppery tang of apparition was still mildly faint in the air, suggesting it had only been a couple of days. Steeling his nerves he pushed the doors open. It was only his many years as a Vampire which allowed him to keep his cool but as it was, Solomon let a gasp escape him and he couldn't stop a singular tear escaping his eye.

 

The Living room was in the same room as the entryway, to the right of it in fact. One of Enoc's arms was around her protectively, the other limp from what looked like a cutting curse to the ligament. Alistair confirmed that it was Ava who had the Cruciatus curse cast upon her and the husks of what used to be their bodies were the result of fatal light exposure. It was the least humane way you could kill a Vampire. While a human would be in a lot of pain, a Vampire would be doubly so. The younger you were, the more sensitive you were to sunlight. A Vampire child would have to be in constant darkness until the adolescent stage and even then minimal exposure was preferred. Their father wouldn't have come out of this without at least first-degree burns, so they could only imagine how much pain the pair were in when they died.

 

Solomon found himself slipping his hand into his brothers for support, trying to resist the urge to squeeze.

 

Little Emily's body was caked in her own blood. Her hair was matted and the stake plunged into her heart was still there. It was rammed in with such force, a piece had broken through to the other side. These were not normal people, they were monsters.

 

Alistair could feel himself falling into the state of the hunt. The need for the blood of his enemy was strong and he knew his eyes reflected this. He was finding it difficult to stay calm and sometimes envied his brother's control.

 

Solomon's perfection on the mind art allowed him to keep his cool when he needed it, he was virtually an unreadable mask and was only ever so passionate when alone with his brother. He gently intruded upon his brother's mind, smoothing out the knots of emotion.

 

“Be at ease, brother.”

 

These words helped and bit by bit, Alistair's eyes returned from blood red to being their usual sunset colour.

 

Taking a deep breath, more for the sake of feeling better than necessity, Alistair beckoned Solomon to follow him.

 

“What would I ever do without you? Surely I would perish by now!”

 

Solomon couldn't help but smirk.

 

Between the pair of them, it didn't take them long to decipher what happened, after a full search of the manor. They'd stayed in one room, with the exception of Jacob and another human. They couldn't find his body anywhere. Alistair held a faint hope that he'd managed to leave once they'd left and sought help, but Solomon was more of the mind that he was with his adoptive family on another plane now.

 

While Wizards could be adept at recognising magical signatures, Vampires were much more so. Since they were more attuned to their own senses, base skills were amplified too. In Alistair's case, every magical signature was recognisable and carried the tang of their alignment. Magical signatures did change, despite popular belief. It was never a noticeable shift but depending on the decisions one makes in their lifetime or what spells and for what intention, the colour, smell and even sound of a magical signature changed. The colour was only available to regular witches and wizards. Colour and smell were accessible to werewolves proficient at the art of magical signature reading and depending on the Vampire, a magical signature could be identified with nearly every one of the senses, touch was not possible, but taste was. Never directly but if the scent of a magical signature is breathed in, the taste buds on the back of the tongue pick up that scent, creating taste. People looked down upon Vampires as though they are dim blood-sucking creatures but in truth, if Alistair and Solomon and those like them contributed to society, they could help humanity advance many more years.

 

They held onto each other for support, the contact providing no warmth to anyone but themselves.

 

They had known the couple well, Alistair becoming interested in Enoc, as he was one of the rare few Vampires who dared to stick out from the crowd. Vampires were meeker and meeker as they were born or created, not with as much pride as they once had, thanks to the humans. He wasn't completely ignorant, he knew there were many out there who were Anti-Vampire and there were, in fact, other races who hated his kind, but humans were at the very deep and twisted root of why Vampires would die out if the problem was not fixed.

 

Enoc wasn't one of those Vampires, he caught Alistair's attention with one of the many spells he'd created. His ingenuity and usefulness drew him in and the two struck up an instant friendship. It was actually thanks to Solomon that Enoc met Ava, as the two were friends before and often had discussions of what spells could be bound to weapons without any negative effects or corroding the delicate metals.

 

Aside from Solomon conversing with Alistair and vice versa, they never spoke to another soul. Well, they did at the usual functions but not on a friendly basis. Ava and Enoc became fast friends and the children they adopted, the two of them saw as extended family.

 

This was a crush to them for as long as they'd lived, Ava and Enoc and to some extent, the rest of their little family were a part of theirs. To have that taken away...

 

“They will pay,” Solomon promised, eyes resolute.

 

“I will make sure of it.” No humor or teasing was dancing in Alistair's tone of voice. He knew who they were. If he should ever come across those magical signatures on his travels again, those wizards and witches wouldn't live to see the light of another day.

 

They would have to add the Morganti family to the base stone. The base stone was one large stone with printed names of the families who had died out over thousands of years. There were others like it, for the Vampires who were not a part of the larger community, but the main one was beneath the foundations of Lothaire Castle. Despite Emily not being a Vampire, she was adopted by one of their kind and was, therefore, honourary. The brothers didn't know who had erected the stone, their guess would be Dracul, their descendant, but it was their way of honouring the dead. There were no burials, but the ashes of the deceased were carried by the winds, to wherever they decided to go. They would not add Jacob's name, as there was no body to confirm his death. One day, perhaps, they may find him, no matter what current state he may be in.

The Guild of Light's Base (Room of Requirement)

 

Much like Tom Riddle, Albus had discovered the wonders of the room of requirement when he'd attended Hogwarts himself. He was aware of Tom's plans on the creation of the Horcruxes and he was aware that Harry was one, but he was not sure how many the man had created. Looking through the eyes of his younger self, he grimaced at how he got straight to the point of his discussion with no theatrics.

 

“It has been 3 months,” Albus declared, pouring a small measure of Whisky into Jeremiah's, Matthew's and Sara's glass. He wasn't angry about the abandonment of 3 members, their mark would forever declare them a member of The Guild of Light unless they found a way to remove it.

 

“We have made considerable progress for as little of us as there is. I would like to expand our Guild, however, there is a much more pressing issue. According to Jeremiah, the highest of the Vampire gatherings happen in London. There is a performance within Theatre Royal and we are going to be there to scope the Vampires out. I suspect there will be much older and more powerful ones there than before, but I have prepared for this eventuality.”

 

In just 3 months, The Guild of Light had wiped out some promising families. The ancient families were well hidden and Jeremiah wasn't good enough to glean the names of the higher families. It was a considerable dent, as they targeted the younger Vampires. Some, like Emily and Jacob, were not even Vampires. Men, Women and children associated with Vampires were also wiped out. However, people were that relieved that the attacks seemed to be stopping, they didn't investigate into the matter. The only reason they had stopped, was because the Muggle Vampires had chosen to go into hiding. A rare few magical Vampires would kill humans but they always had a reason and never targeted the vulnerable or innocent.

 

During his Owl and Newt years and beyond, Albus had come up with various devices which could help him in a future situation, only adapted as he became older, wiser and more knowledgeable. One such device was powder which acted as torpor. A controlled wind in the direction of the person and a few breaths, they would be slowed as their very organs and major tissues were affected. He later adapted this, realising that Vampires would not be affected via breathing, as they were essentially dead. Their hearts beat slower, but they had no need of lungs. In fact, only the Muggle Vampires did the action, more out of habit than anything. Wizard born Vampires never did breathe, it was a natural instinct to not.

 

So instead, he fashioned a tiny metal disc. The metal was attracted to those which have no body heat, barely a heartbeat. It would seek out a Vampire, attaching to him or her and only his own blood would be able to remove it. It sunk into the pores, rather than the major organs being targeted, the skin would be. It would ooze into the body from there, remaining unseen to others unless he chose for them to. In theory that would be what would happen but he'd never actually experimented. The Vampire which they had the most chances with would be targeted. London was the perfect place for it. They needed a live Vampire to interrogate, however. Jeremiah's information could only go so far but if they could find and break a Vampire, they could gain invaluable knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter! I don't think I could do what some others do, with 6,000 words per chapter. I love reading novel length fics, but I always prefer the chapters to be shorter, but more of them instead of them to be longer with less, just to break it up a bit. I seem to read faster if it's like that as well.


	25. Impending Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was another performance of Alistair and Solomon's and they had yet to find the magical signatures they were seeking. Plus, Albus makes a fool of himself and he can't even blame it on old age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always conscious of the length of the chapters I write, not that I have an issue with how much I write, I just try my best to not leave anyone feeling unsatisfied, especially if it's just over 1,000 words.

Theatre Royal, London

 

It was another night, about a week on from when Alistair and Solomon found what fate had in store for the Morganti family. Alistair was especially keeping a keen eye out on magic levels, though even for him it was difficult to distinguish between magical signatures in a room full of people of varying ages, races and genders. Solomon was scanning the minds of magic users in the audience of which he could access. None of them had any luck so far. Perhaps there would be more of a chance once the crowds dispersed and individuals could be singled out.

 

Sometimes, Alistair would sing while he played, but he had much more passion for the piano than he did for singing. That was usually in the privacy of their home. Solomon in his eyes was the better of the two. This enabled him to focus on his love more and there would be less of a risk of hitting the wrong keys. It was highly unlikely, considering he'd learned to play over 1,000 years ago and had been practising ever since, but still, it never hurt.

 

They didn't have a stage name, nor did they need one. They didn't want to be up to their eyeballs with contracts either. They were perfectly suited to entertaining an audience, be it human or not, and going about their business. It made the life of the immortals more varied, at least.

 

Though Alistair's memory was by no means poor, Solomon with the aid of his flawless mind arts had perfect memory recall and was able to remember which particular pieces of music the audience responded most favourably to. Each time they would add something else to the mix and sometimes, they would use some of Alistair's own works. They never threw pieces of music one after the other without a thought. Each piece, whether by him or well-known composers, was placed together so they told a story. What story was up to the individuals listening. Music was an art form and people interpreted it in a variety of different ways. Be it a strong emotional piece or a happy piece, there usually wasn't a dry eye in the audience as they were swept away by the magnificence of it all. It was a mostly magical audience and while Alistair rarely did enchant, he had experimented with his magic flowing through the tips of his fingers, letting it assume control. Never during a performance, it was more for curiosity's sake. He preferred playing of his own free will though he did admit to himself that the magic would definitely work if he wanted the extra allure.

 

However, Solomon often let the enchantment flow through his voice, for it was a branch of magic he excelled at. Indeed if he were not male his voice could be mistaken for the song of the Siren. His vocal range was from a tenor to an alto and his brother often listened to him sing and marvelled at the beauty. 

 

Before they knew it, the hour and a half were over and they were treated to a standing ovation. The brothers, dressed in simple silk button-up shirts and trousers, bowed and took their leave.

 

Alistair would love to show his stereotypical vampire side, he was honestly a fan of a nice long cape that he could swish about to add mystique, but unfortunately for him, they were not actually trying to draw attention to themselves. Solomon did prefer to blend in, but Alistair was a born and bred entertainer. He wasn't pushy and insistent about being in the spotlight, he just happened to step in and be noticed. He put it down to his good looks and charm, while Solomon put it down to people being too polite to tell him to bugger off.

 

“A fine performance tonight, don't you think?” Alistair's eyes twinkled a little as he gazed upon his brother changing, quite literally lightning speed, while he took his time, admiring himself in the full-length dress mirror. He saw Solomon roll his eyes in the reflection, but decided to ignore him.

 

“Isn't it a fine performance every time?” Solomon brushed his fingers through the inky locks, coughing slightly. He'd picked up the habit around humans, it's not as if he actually needed to clear his throat, being essentially dead and all. Alistair never failed to find it amusing.

 

“True.” he mused. “But then again we are perfect. Well, at least I am.” he winked, a bit of fang showing in his grin.

 

Solomon passed up to the urge to once more roll his eyes. “I will leave you to admire yourself in the mirror some more. I'm off for a midnight stroll." At Alistair's raised eyebrows, he clarified. “Not to feed, just for a walk.”

 

Nodding. Alistair once more resumed admiring himself, while perhaps taking the longest to dress than any man or woman has in history.

 

There was a park that Solomon liked to frequent here. It was quiet and didn't see much activity, which was very rare for London. While they had performances in different countries, they enjoyed the ones in London the most. He had the feeling that Alistair knew his love of the park, so specifically chose theatre royal for their performances, as this was their place of choosing several times in a row.

 

He was very grateful to him, if so. He truly did love his brother. While Alistair took care of him, he also took care of Alistair. They were the Sun and the Moon, opposites, but so much in common.

 

The mind was a quick tool. A Vampire's mind even more so. Before Solomon could blink and think, his mind has already processed a Legilimency attack and dealt with the threat. So it was with a small amount of surprise that in the darkness, he saw a figure standing a few feet away. Or was standing, before Solomon's most certainly advanced Occlumency shield repelled the attack with such force, the person was elevated off of their feet, smashing their body into a tree behind them.

 

 _'That had to have hurt.'_   Solomon thought dispassionately as he watched the figure regain his footing, joined by what looked like 3 other people.

 

Solomon's instincts told him to expect trouble. With the life that he had led so far, he knew he would be foolish to ignore them.

 

* * *

 

 

The Guild of Light-Theatre Royal

 

Albus had never attended the Muggle theatres before. He hadn't even visited the Wizarding ones, though those were different. How they were different, he didn't know. For all his show of Muggleborn support, there were areas in which he assumed that Wizards were superior in, without actually checking. The seats were comfortable, if a little cramped, but otherwise it was a good opportunity to study the men they were watching perform tonight.

 

They looked too composed, too unnatural in Albus' eyes, to not be Vampires. They looked as though they were searching for something or someone, but he couldn't be sure. He did wish that the performances were less than an hour, but sacrifices had to be made to be a hero. He could feel Jeremiah beside him practically itching to do something. He was almost certain they were Vampires. Not only because of tonight, but when they questioned people on the pair, it was stated that they are very popular, but only performed in London. Why would they only perform here? The only logical conclusion to him would be they altered other's minds.

 

Unfortunately, Albus was in so deep of his desire to wipe out Vampires, that he failed to realise that a wizard could have easily done the same thing with the Obliviate charm.

 

“If we're capturing a live specimen, do I have free rein to encourage them to talk?”

 

The elder man tilted his head in the direction of Matthew, his hearing not so good, especially with the noise of thousands of hands clapping. “As long as it doesn't affect their mind, yes.”

 

He missed Matthew rubbing his hands in glee, as Jeremiah was grumbling in his other ear about _"The shit seats but good food."_   It was just as well really, as their time was up.

 

Albus pulled the metal disc from the pouch on his robe. It wasn't very big, about the size of a 2p coin. He pressed his index finger to the underside. It glowed a faint blue, before hovering in the air. Now all they had to do was wait for it to find one and take effect.

 

It was a few moments later that it latched to one of the two men leaving the stage. He was unsurprised to find that one of them was indeed a Vampire. The other was unknown. They waited until the seats had cleared out, before following the Vampire. They had a few minutes before the device would activate. Vampires did have heightened senses, but it did vary from Vampire to Vampire. It was specifically designed to stick to skin. It must be working, as they were lead to London's eye-catching park.

 

The faint blue glow alerted him to the Vampire seated on the bench. It was attached to the side of his neck, near the back but of course, he couldn't see it. All they needed were a few minutes and the Vampire's reaction times would be slowed down significantly.

 

It was then, Albus would later reflect, that he didn't make the wisest of choices, particularly not knowing the age of the vampire. He had barely uttered the word Legilimens from his mouth as he was hurled several feet into the air and crashed into the nearest tree, knocking his companions down and forcing his teeth to bite into his tongue from the force. He spat blood, scowling, though he winced when he touched the back of his head, as a sizable lump was making itself known. Blast.

 

They would capture this Vampire for information, or his name was not Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you are either cheering for Solomon or the Tree? ;D


	26. Vampires Can Be Human Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain old coot does the unforgivable in the eyes of the Vampire community but in his eyes, necessary. We see a side to Alistair which breaks the stereotype of his kind being blood sucking creatures. He is as human as he can possibly be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I'd make this into a full fledged fic but I'm glad that I am, your reviews really inspire me :)

He was unsure of what these wizards wanted, but Solomon had a very foreboding feeling. He tried to contact his brother but found something blocking his senses. He wasn't anywhere near as good as Alistair with practical magic since his expertise laid with weapons, the mind arts and to some extent potions, so he failed to notice that the metal disc of Albus' was the one to be slowly affecting him.

 

“Is there something you require, Gentlemen? And lady,” he added, seeing the slighter stature of one of the members.

 

“Your death would be a lovely start.” he heard an obnoxious man mutter. He chose to ignore that comment, looking to the man who seemed to be the leader of the group.

 

“I just wanted to remark on how wonderful your concert was tonight.” Albus gushed, the false sweetness overpowering his lemon drops entirely.

 

A quick scan of his mind revealed less than honest intentions. Solomon narrowed his eyes. Something was off. The forefront of the man's mind was not solely focused on him, but Vampires as a whole and his desire to rid the world of them. It was disturbing, to say the least.

 

“Thank you.” He replied in very much the same tone. The man looked to be eyeing him expectantly as he frowned in confusion. What for?

 

It was then he began to feel strange. His senses were dulled and as he moved his hand, he realised his reaction time was slow. His body was sluggish, as though he was trying to travel through quicksand.

 

He didn't know what had overcome him. While he as the Moonchild, collecting enchanted metals and crafting weapons of the finest materials, there came a price. He was weaker to certain forms of magic than most Vampires. It was his much older age which offered some degree of immunity, while his boon was heightened resistance to the cold and a talent for enchanting and the mind arts. As Alistair was the Sun child, his price was a vulnerability to the cold, but a higher immunity to fire, light and a greater affinity for spells.

 

It was his weakness in this area which affected him much quicker than Albus had anticipated. In unison, they all spoke as one the mantra of their group, before Albus poured a tablespoon of Phoenix blood into Solomon's mouth, easier as he offered no resistance. Not that he didn't try to, but his senses and tissues were affected. Though he was technically a walking corpse, the very fact he was walking allowed for the magic to take place. There was enough for the job to be done.

 

“You will come with me. If you part with useful information about you and your kind, I may give you a merciful death.” He was lying, of course. He failed to realise that while Solomon's body was affected, his mind was very much intact and he could read the insincerity. Solomon thought he'd heard the dismissal of the other people, he was not sure. He was too busy attempting to stand and assess the damage while keeping his eye on the man.

 

Albus didn't bother to research what Phoenix blood unwillingly given would do to a Vampire. As young Vampires avoided the light, Older Vampires steered clear of 'Dodgy blood.' The older the creature of light was it was unwillingly taken from, the more toxic it would be. Albus had removed the blood from Fawkes, who was rumoured to have existed since the founder's times. Solomon was aged 1,416 years old. There was not much of an age difference between them if one looked at the bigger scale, so it would not be fatal, though the severity of his symptoms would be increased if fed more blood. As it was, the blood to Solomon would act very much like severe stomach flu. It was toxic, but depending on the dosage he needed a certain amount of days before it was flushed out of his system, not to mention Albus' little device which had sunken into his skin. He never did work out an option for it to ever be recovered.

 

He unwillingly touched the creature, though he granted that it was necessary, taking him to the place not one single thing he knew of had ever escaped from. Azkaban.

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair-Theatre Royal

 

It was a few minutes later when Alistair stopped his preening and actually changed into one of his lovely swishy capes. He loved to look good but was never obnoxious about it. He just brimmed with a confidence which would bolster other people in the room and he rarely ever discouraged or shouted at someone, unless it was warranted. Otherwise, he saw it as a waste. He may be a Vampire but he didn't see the need to upset people needlessly.

 

He and Solomon had established a link, over 1,000 years ago now. While he couldn't hold a candle to his little brother's mind arts, he could hold his own. They each felt their presence at the back of their minds and it was comforting to them. While born Vampires, the 2 men were about as human as you could get, minus their Vampiric traits. Solomon was never a fan of the heat and he enjoyed his cooled skin. He often remarked if he was ever human that would be the one thing he would be uncomfortable with.

 

For Alistair, it was different. In some ways, he did associate warmth with comfort and that was why he'd took a few human lovers as opposed to Vampires. Though he would never admit it out loud, his favourite part was never the sex, though he certainly had no objections, but the holding of the other person in bed if they would permit it. his cooled skin touching a warm body was bliss to him. He felt a pang of loss, though why of loss when it was something he'd never experienced was beyond him, but did wish his skin could be warm too so that he could comfort another with his presence as they had him.

 

The relationships which he started were not long lasting, but it never ended in heartbreak. The men he was with or very rarely, women, would always have a wonderful time with him and would be treated with the utmost respect. It didn't take much of the mind arts to confirm their likes and dislikes but he was secretly delighted with the ones who responded to romantic gestures, for he was a romantic at heart. Yes, him! He was a fan of roses, candlelit dinners and many things which people would consider cliché. He enjoyed himself more if the person he was with was happy. Although he had been with too many people to count, he could honestly say he'd found no man nor woman which had ever made his heart sing, as much as it figuratively could. He was happy, but not in love happy. He consoled himself with the fact that he was immortal, he would one day find that someone. He couldn't see himself with another vampire, he'd always had an interest in humans. Sometimes, if they permitted, he did drink from them. There were a few of the rare ones where such acts heightened their pleasure so really it was a win-win situation in that case.

 

It was when he packed away their things with a simple sweep of his hand that his brow furrowed a little. He couldn't sense Solomon and a number of times that had happened was rare. Growing increasingly concerned, he quickly packed away their things before arriving at the park a split second later. Vampires travels did have their uses.

 

With a dawning sense of horror, he heard the crack of apparition, for a second staring into a familiar pair of silver eyes, before they were gone. Alistair rarely panicked but this was one of those moments. His magic senses were screaming at him. That was the wizard which had assisted in the murder of the Morganti family, the others were not too long gone either.

 

He nearly gagged. There was blood of a magical creature but the lingering remnants of the magic in the air was foul tasting. As for the other magic, though, his complexion paled. He knew that scent well.

 

He and his brother were respected among the Vampire community as one of the elders, upheld for their knowledge of the ways and their friendly demeanour. There was only another of their kind of almost equal age and standing. He had to see Rupert, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, in case my schedule is a bit off, 2017 has not been a great year. I attended a friend's funeral in January and one of our family dogs was put down a few days ago. I feel as though I haven't processed their deaths since they happened so close together. If I am ever late in posting, my mind is most likely elsewhere. Enough of depressing topics however, I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) Well, as much as you can considering the content!


	27. Hope Is All We Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solomon is missing, but Alistair is determined with every fibre of his being to find him, no matter how long it takes. Solomon is isolated from most people, including his brother. It was times such as these he was thankful that his mind was incredibly strong.

“What do you mean we can't find him?!"

 

Alistair tried not to let the panic edge into his voice, he really did, but he couldn't help it.

 

“For the time that Phoenix blood is ingested, it alters the very chemistry of our body. Any connections or links we may have established with that Vampire is gone for the duration. Repeated dosage would mean we could never track him.”

 

Rupert Gray, aside from the Morganti family, was the closest confidant that Alistair had. At 1,200 years old he was the 3rd oldest Vampire of their recorded community, With Solomon then Alistair next. He came from one of the old families but was the last of his line, that he knew of. He was different from most of them, as he'd been bitten as a teenage wizard, not born naturally. This lead to others underestimating him, except for the brothers, who quickly learned to realise that appearances were not all that they seemed. with his curly blonde hair and blue eyes, they tended to sneer at the Vampire who looked 16 and call him 'cute.' he wasn't so cute when he tore a chunk from a challenger's throat in front of everyone and happily drank her blood, so soon everyone adopted Alistair's and Solomon's attitude to life. He worked as the Vampire equivalent of a counsellor but was also well versed in knowledge, of just about every ailment their kind could suffer, what effects it would have and what the solution may be.

 

Apparently, he didn't have one.

 

“So there is nothing we can do?” Alistair questioned and tried not to give into his despair.

 

“If whoever has taken him doesn't feed him more Phoenix blood, we could track him. Keep your senses alert but for now, there's nothing we can do.”

 

“I'm not giving up on him.” The power which many Vampires including Rupert were respectful of shone through his eyes, the man seated at his desk rubbed his forehead, blonde hair trailing.

 

“I know.” he eventually said. “I wish you luck and I will help how I can.”

 

With that, Alistair left to begin the search for his brother.

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair Lothaire- 1949

 

Alistair felt as though he'd been searching for an eternity but to no avail. His brother wasn't dead, he knew it. Either the man who had taken him had found a new way of incapacitating him, or he was still dosed with Phoenix blood.

 

The Guild of Light had not stopped with their attacks. They covered their tracks well but Alistair sensed far more signatures now than in the past. He came to understand that a man by the name of Albus Dumbledore leads this group. While he was utterly furious and suspected that they may know something of Solomon, his hands were tied. Long ago, as the oldest known Vampire of that time, he had signed a truce between the humans and the Vampires, many years after the death of Dracul, the first magical vampire, when thousands of people sought his death within the very castle that Alistair resided. His father, before his death, never did look over the very first contract but Alistair did and it was certainly archaic, in need of a change. Dracul was their very first member of the family so everything he once owned came with the building. He was never overly interested in his family tree, he knew just enough to answer questions. The pact was peace between humans and Vampires. He did try to persuade them to adjust it, but they refused. As long as they didn't openly attack humans, they wouldn't start their war with them. However, if they attacked a Vampire, they were not allowed to retaliate. It was incredibly one-sided but the best that could be done. There were Vampires that were outside of their largest community, living among humans or under protection, or within shelters. If he attacked Albus Dumbledore, known Vampire hater but also renowned as the Light Lord after his defeat of Grindelwald, he could condemn his brothers and sisters not of blood but kinship, to death. It was a huge responsibility and one he wouldn't take lightly.

 

Though he still had hope, it did dwindle. While he was certain his brother was not dead, it seemed as though he would be lost to him.

 

His long hair tumbled in front of his face, as he bowed his head in anguish, the pain and realisation making him stagger to his seat.

 

“Why? WHY!” He cried out. Not in anger, but pure sorrow. It was then that the locals of Transylvania would start rumours of the castle is haunted. The screams of utter despair chilled them all to the core.

 

Eventually, Alistair quieted, but the tears didn't stop their flow, trailing down his cheeks in a morose path. Those who would say that a Vampire couldn't feel emotion, that they were a dark creature and incapable of feeling, would reconsider upon seeing Alistair. He loved his brother so much and that he couldn't be by his side, or him by his side, was breaking his heart. Eventually, his sobs too died down, before he was weary enough to sleep within the chair he sat, a cape around him, offering false comfort.

 

* * *

 

 

Solomon Lothaire- Azkaban Prison, High Security

 

Solomon had lost count of the passage of time. Where he was now time did very much seem to drag by. Amusing really, considering normally to him a day was a minute, a year was a day and a few years seemed like months. But not now.

 

Unlike the residents of the prison he inhabited, he was not affected by the Dementor's presence. In fact, they seemed to like him. A fellow dark creature and who their presence didn't affect one bit. His mind shield was far too strong for them. He greeted them softly as they passed by and they did acknowledge and reply back, in their own way. Either that or his intense boredom and sickness was getting to him.

 

It was never the Dementors which caused him problems. The Phoenix blood did that on its own. Since he was classified as Dark and a Phoenix Light, it was very much like attempting to push together identical poles on magnets together, they would always repel. The fact that he had no need for bowel movements since he was essentially dead, meant that the substance when consumed was simply swimming around inside him, not absorbed into his body for strength as blood would be. Anything other than blood had the same effect. Their digestive systems didn't work as effectively as a humans did. Instead, once they had reached their limit, they could focus on what they had consumed, converting that energy into magic, for magical vampires. It was different for the muggle vampires for their digestive systems and bowel movements were the same since they were turned and not born.

 

It didn't work with the blood, though. He'd tried. Instead, it was absorbed into his very being and he knew that couldn't be good for anyone.

 

The Phoenix blood was changing his appearance, too. Or rather, his hair. Once black, he could see that the strands were turning pure white. He knew in humans this was usually from stress or old age, but neither really applied to him, so the blood was the only logical conclusion. It was very low, however. He'd had to estimate that per day while he was forced to drink the revolting mixture, that a few strands of hair once black, would turn white. A section of his fringe was white, the rest black. He supposed if anything, that would be one way to keep track of his time here.

 

The man who he'd come to know as Albus would visit him, sometimes bringing another man with him. They tried to question him on various things, such as his family name, the names of other Vampires, but his will was strong. He would not give into them, despite his weakened state with the Phoenix blood and whatever the hell happened to him before he was forced to drink his first dose.

 

They did attempt to loosen his tongue with Matthew's various concoctions, but nothing seemed to work. It was if, with every word and action, Solomon stayed resolute in not parting with any knowledge.

 

He was not worried about himself. In fact, he was far more worried about his brother. He was extremely distressed that he could sense him and his anguish, but couldn't go to him. He knew that the things in his system must have made the bond one way, for he was sure Azkaban would be a smoking crater in the ground if he could sense where he was.

 

He didn't blame his brother for his current situation and he never would. While they did usually stick together, it was very rare that either of the brothers was outright challenged or attacked and if they were, they always came out on top. This was simply a situation that he didn't see coming but he knew with no small amount of sorrow that his brother would think he was important enough to blame himself entirely. Rarely did he ever feel helpless but this was one such time. He couldn't contact his brother, reassure him that he was indeed ok. Solomon knew he'd be fine, he had the Mind Arts on his side after all. However many days passed by he'd amused himself with entertaining and creative ways for his captors to die.

 

While Solomon was usually the sensitive and passionate one, Alistair had his moments, mainly around his brother. They were the opposite of each other but balanced the scale that was their lives. Not being with him was causing as much distress to Solomon as Alistair was feeling. 

 

A single tear escaped his closed eyelid, leaving a cooler track than the temperature of his skin. _'One day, my brother, I will see you again.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit to shedding a few tears. When you write OC's, particularly ones which you're fond of, you really slip into their shoes and try to understand how they'd feel. This definitely happened tonight.


	28. Battle of Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his old age, Albus is either confident or arrogant. It really did depend. Solomon is holding out remarkably, ironically the prisoner knew more about his captor than his captor knew about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit that's insane. Over 500 kudos! Many thanks guys :O

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry- Lower Dungeons

 

Albus was not pleased. It had been years since the capture of that Vampire, and he had learned nothing. Absolutely nothing, But he was determined to get something from him. Once he'd realised he was actually friendly with the Dementors of all creatures, not that it surprised him really, all Dark creatures in his mind allied together, he moved Solomon to one of the dungeons, deep below the school, under the ground where the foundations laid. Not many knew of the area but once he'd took up the position of Headmaster, he became aware of the intricate details of Hogwarts. At the beginning, she would share her knowledge of many years passed and it was thanks to her part that Albus had been labelled by the students as all seeing and all knowing.

 

Hogwarts hadn't been as talkative as she used to be. Albus thought that was because she had no more wisdom to give him, but Hogwarts was severing herself as much as she physically could from the Headmaster, sensing his ill intent, especially after his manipulation of Tom Riddle.

 

The one thing that Hogwarts would never inform him of, is Vampires. He had tried after futile attempts with his current prisoner but it seemed as though he would have to go it alone, not counting the rest of The Guild of Light.

 

He just knew this Vampire was important somehow and he'd be damned if he killed him. Not until he got something useful from him.

 

The Guild of Light had made substantial progress in the years since their capture of the vampire. But to their minds, they were like parasites. The more which they removed, the more which would crawl from whatever dark hole they'd been hiding in. There had to be a way, a link, something which all Vampires shared, to remove them at the same time. But for now, he settled for what he could get.

 

* * *

 

 

Solomon- Lower Dungeons

 

Solomon came to realise that Albus must have moved him here due to the fact that he was friendly, for the lack of a better term, with the Dementors. It never failed to amuse him that despite he was obviously captured for interrogation, it had been years and in that time, he'd told him nothing. While he knew everything about the man, aside from his sexual habits, which he had no desire to pry into though unfortunately, if Albus was thinking of it strongly, sometimes thoughts were pushed into his mind. Oh well. They did say to 'know thy enemy', though he didn't think that whoever first said this had Legilimency in mind.

 

While he could tell he was a skilled Occlumens, he ever seemed to shield his thoughts around him. The only reason of why that Solomon could come up with was that he was confident in the fact that his secrets wouldn't be spread as he wouldn't have the chance to escape. Either that or he hadn't realised he was doing it. Considering his age, it was unlikely.

 

Whatever was done to him really depended on the imagination of whoever turned up. Sometimes it was Albus, another time it was Jeremiah. Matthew made frequent appearances, if only because he knew this guinea pig would remain alive.

 

It didn't matter what they did to him. It was painful, but he never once cried out. His mind arts were some of the strongest known to man and indeed creature kind. He was able to go through thoughts much faster than the average human Legilimens and chances are once a master of the art had detected his presence he'd retreated before the thought could even register. His barriers were far more impressive. There was nothing there at first, but as soon as one took the first step within his mind, it was a veritable minefield.

 

He often did escape to his haven when they commenced the torture, determined to get something out of him. He was with Alistair, at their castle. He was recounting tales of one of his quirkier love interests while he hummed to show he was paying attention, idly sipping at some of the more ancient blood which had been bottled, saved for special occasions, or whenever Alistair was bored. He personally had more of an interest in females though unlike Alistair, he had no preference of race or species. But, he'd not had very much experience, not free with his sexuality and the benefits as his brother. In over 1,000 years, he counted using his fingers just once over how many men or women he'd been with. He'd jokingly call his brother a man whore but he knew how gentle and well treated his lovers were for the brief time he was with them. Solomon tended to not get personal. None of the people he'd been with was a relationship per se, it was more about the sex. Not that he'd mind finding someone he could spend his life with, or their life, depending on whom, but it just hadn't happened for him yet.

 

Focusing for a second, he idly realised that Albus was slashing into his chest with harsh wand movements, while Matthew, who he hadn't noticed arrive, was dripping something into the open wounds.

 

Since he never spoke to answer their questions, he tended to tune out just about everything they said, knowing he could scan their minds later if he needed to.

 

He still entertained himself with inventive ways of killing Albus. Sure, he wouldn't mind being able to tear Matthew's or Jeremiah's throats out, but Albus was the one who'd started all this. Currently, his favourite method of killing him was to castrate him by tying his long beard around his balls, then once they'd popped out from the pressure, ram them down his throat so he'd choke to death, bollock-less as he lived his last moments.

 

Solomon had to admit that he had changed, a least a little. He'd never normally entertain the thought of painful and humiliating deaths but this bastard had it coming, especially since he'd found out exactly what happened to the Morganti family, which in truth was what they'd suspected, just not who had done what.

 

He was glad it was him, not Alistair. He had somewhere to escape this, to retain his sanity. Alistair was not a master of the mind arts, not enough to endure what he was being put through. He thought of his brother every day, mindless of his own condition and instead worrying about his.

 

How could his captors know that the blood unwillingly given, whether it was Phoenix or another magical creature, could be far worse than whatever else was being done to him? This affected him permanently, always will until he could flush it out if his system with magic. One of the things which it did do was slow his rate of magic. Also, what he came to realise was a device of Albus' own fashion and what caused his dulled senses and reactions, the curiously shaped little disc which had attached and sunken into his skin certainly didn't help matters.

 

With Solomon determined to remain silent other than the thoughts in his head, waiting for the day that he can be free and the determination of one Albus Dumbledore to discover something, it was truly difficult to say who would win at this impasse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we're back in the future :)


	29. The Start of Something Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the future, where the last of Harry and Remus' questionable magic finishes off, leaving The Order in a less than desirable state. Meanwhile, Harry and Alistair are of the same mind, at least when thinking about the other. Harry manages to find a way to quite literally throw Dumbledore off his scent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew a blank on the chapter title but this one is here until I can perhaps think of something better :P

There were many years of memories which current Albus watched. It was as though he were there for those years, but in fact, it was merely a few minutes. When people had gotten wind of The Guild of Light's actions and the bigger threat to the tentative truce between Vampires which was later established in the UK, he changed the name to The Order of The Phoenix. For the markings which the original members had still remained, it still represented a group of people dedicated to fighting the dark permeating the world. After Tom's creation of the Death Eaters and the twisted inspiration they'd took from him, he no longer used tattoos, merely a contract. He didn't want to be associated with their kind, after all.

 

He looked across at his associates and realised that they were still in the throes of their memories. He'd noticed several order members had up and left, Shacklebolt and Bill among them. Blasted Potter and Lupin, he was sure the substance that had affected them had also removed his work upon the 2 wizards. They could always be recast later.

 

Tonks sniggered to herself slightly, hiding her obvious mirth by taking a tip of her now cold tea, before her smile turned into a grimace. The warming charm helped a little but it couldn't beat tea without the use of magic. The headmaster really did look different without his beard. In fact, his wrinkled bald face reminded her of the mandrakes she'd had to re-pot back at Hogwarts.

 

She didn't have much time to ponder on that thought before suddenly, what remained of the mysterious dust exploded into a shower of sparks. It showed a ghostly ledger, names of the members of the order written within. One by one members disappeared, until only herself, Arthur and Minerva and a few of the newer members remained. They soon left in a haze of confusion, leaving the other 3 alone in the room.

 

Minerva never did frequent the meetings often. She had grown tired of the meddling old coot's ramblings about her favourite lion and indeed the only reason why she'd shown up this time was to see if Potter had any more of that marvellous magic up his sleeve. Indeed, he had. Along with one of her other favourite former students. Now she was never accused of having a dull mind, but at a guess, those names crossed off indicated that person could no longer enter Grimmauld Place. She had no idea how Potter could either project the image of him crossing names out in the ledger for it to work and remove said person, or influence the magic to do so, but she was mightily impressed. She would definitely find an excuse to slip him some house points here and there.

 

“I think I'd better take my leave.” The woman spoke to the 2 remaining members before she did just that.

 

“I don't know about you, but that was weird.” Tonks summarised.

 

Chuckling slightly but looking bemused, Arthur nodded his agreement. “I think I owe Harry a letter.”

 

“I'll be seeing him at Hogwarts. Dumbledore has me on tracking duty. I don't trust him, not after all this. I'll morph into a nameless student, let him know I have his back. He's family and family stick together.” she declared, changing her hair to golden pigtails.

 

“If he doesn't get my letter first, give him my support will you?" He took the initiative to clear the table with a wave of his wand, heading to the floo.

 

“Will do!” she shouted to his retreating back, deciding to stay a while. She distinctly remembered her cousin speaking with Remus about a certain set of raunchy pictures...

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair was startled to feel traces of tears long dried on his face. For some strange reason, he had dreamt of Solomon. Granted he had before, but never with such clarity. There was no reason he could think of why this would spring on him so suddenly, so he was left frowning with confusion.

 

Recently, though, Solomon wasn't the only one he was thinking about.

 

Harry popped into his head more often than not. Not just because he was the first person aside from Rupert he'd had contact with, but his interactions with him were fascinating. He didn't ever want to think of himself as the clingy type, but he had to admit to himself he craved affection more than he'd used to. The isolation and loneliness really did get to him sometimes.

 

It was his open-mindedness and honesty which he found endearing. That, added to his impressive magical core and yet remaining humble despite who he was, it left Alistair with a warm feeling inside. From the few days, he was with him, he took every chance he could to study him. He was wary of scanning his thoughts, though, eager and up for the challenge of working out the young man on his own without mind reading.

 

He'd never received much positive touch, he'd noted. The way he leant into his hand at the affectionate gesture indicated this. He had the strong desire to harm whoever had wronged him and it wasn't often he'd thought of acting this irrationally.

 

Frankly, he found him to be absolutely adorable. Despite the many men and women which had passed through his life, none had gotten his heart to beat at an almost human rate at the darkened blush staining his cheeks or the tentative smiles thrown his way.

 

Not to mention those beautiful green eyes.

 

It was the same thoughts, circulating his mind. He'd been unable to stop thinking about him since his departure and it was driving him mad. He wanted to see him again. But when did one overstep the line into pushy? He was attracted to him, that much was certain. But he was never one to rush things. He loved to take his time. He was happy to have whatever they had right now. A Friendship, an Alliance? And to see where things went. A small part of his mind was aware that since he'd been alone for so long he was perhaps just a little bit too enamoured with the one person who hadn't run away and chose not to associate with him, but he truly did feel that the young man was one of a kind.

 

Still, the thought of him brought a soft smile to his face and the dulled sparkle in his eye brightened. While the loss of his brother still broke his heart each day, maybe he'd found someone to help it heal, as a friend, ally or otherwise.

 

* * *

 

Harry stared at Arthur's letter with some mixture of amusement and horror. Yes, he'd been correct when the meeting was scheduled that night, though what went down at said meeting was more than he ever could have anticipated.

 

More than that, though, he was glad for Arthur's support. Other than Ron, he didn't know where he stood with the rest of the Weasleys, but he had every intention of finding out. It was then that he noticed something which he was sure wasn't there before. It was a letter, made from the same material as the black howler they'd sent. There was something he wanted to do today so as he headed to the requirement closet, he tried to puzzle out how he and Remus had created a substance which was multi-purpose, could erase magic, kick people out of houses and make them relive their memories. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, so he opted to try not think too much and to lock their wands away. Then again, Harry didn't remember if they'd even used their wands to start with.

 

He folded the sheet of paper and placed it in his back pocket. Maybe further study would give an insight into what happened, or viewing their memories of the night was a valid option.

 

It wasn't far from his room to the requirement closet, but he stood there in thought for a moment, his mind wandering more often than not. Sometimes it was to converse with Lume and Thanatos and more rarely, Aela. She'd probably be more talkative once reunited with the basilisk corpse and a living entity rather than an animated tattoo.

 

But no. Since leaving Dracula's, or now that he knew better Lothaire's castle, Alistair had been on his mind. _'More than on my mind.'_   he thought, blushing furiously as he now had a face to put whatever fantasies that he came up with at night. While he did feel older in a lot of respects, there was nothing like hormones to ground him to reality and be a reminder of how old he actually was. He really did hope that the bracelet he was given didn't show when he was in that sort of mood, but he didn't hold out the hope. He wondered when he'd see the man again.

 

Within a few days, Alistair had broken whatever preconceived notions he may have had about Vampires. Despite classing himself as open-minded and willing to try new things, he couldn't help but take on board the general opinion of Vampires, Wizarding or Muggle versions. His stay with him was pleasant, though the man must have thought he was shy since he averted his eyes a lot of the time. Harry was worried about what he'd do if he stared too long because the first look he'd had of his eyes, he was amazed by how colourful they were, how much they reminded him of the sunsets he used to sneak a peek of at The Dursleys.

 

In one way, it was foolish for him to have such thoughts about someone he'd only just met, but unlike most people, he had good manners and for once in his life, someone didn't fawn over his name like a lovesick fan. It was nice. But then, so was the view.

 

 _'Here we go again.'_   he groaned. He really did blame his raging hormones for being attracted to Alistair but then, Cho never managed to make him blush so much with just his words and a casual touch. Though really, they never had anything of that sort going. Regardless, he certainly couldn't deny his attraction to him.

 

He shook his head of those thoughts, pacing in front of the closet.

 

 _'I need something to mask the power of my magical core.'_   he thought desperately. Instead of having to step inside, the closet opened of its own accord and provided him with a bound up scroll. He reached out and picked it up, hopeful that this would solve his problem.

 

Larva et Virtutis (Mask The Power)

 

Spells such as these are rare to come by in the modern world. In the old world, this spell was mainly used to hide magical objects in plain sight, where they would be safer. To this day, Muggle museums house magical artefacts, their power not sapped away, just hidden from sight, sound and smell. The spell acts as a net of sorts, made up of tiny threads designed to protect the magic within and prevent any excess from leaking out.

 

The spell also works for those who wish to hide their true power from all but themselves. If the wizard or witch has never had a magical block placed upon them, they simply have to imagine a state where their magic was not as strong while saying the words, Larva et Virtutis, a sharp upwards flick on the last syllable of the last word. For those who have had their magic dampened but the blocks removed it's similar, except they imagine the time before their blocks were removed. Not even the most powerful of wizards can remove this spell without them knowing how it is applied. It will not work over clothing, the fine threads would not settle over the rough material. It must be applied on bare skin, the full-body for the intended effect so that the netting can settle properly. The spell is sustained by the magic in the air, not the caster's magical core, so there are no worries on that front, though it will mean a room devoid of magic, the spell will not work for that duration. There will be a mild tingling sensation upon the spell being cast successfully, but nothing more. The counterspell is Virtutem Revelare.

 

Harry never did check who originally owned Evergreen Manor but if it was his parents, he had many things to thank them for including the requirement closet. He'd been fretting ever since he'd found out about his blocks how Dumbledore would react but not only could Dumbledore not place more blocks on him thanks to Alistair, he'd checked out some of the spells on the bracelet and approved, but he wouldn't know any the wiser about his power increase since they'd last met face to face.

 

Harry could say that finally, he was ready for whatever the old fucker chose to throw at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Harry and Alistair are undoubtedly attracted to each other ;) I'm not planning on rushing into the romance but I thought it would be nice to see their thoughts of each other after meeting :) Let me know what you all think!


	30. Even The Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is reminded of why he was placed in Gryffindor, even though Slytherin was an option. That and something strange has happened...

It was late evening. Harry noted with much glee and some sympathy that in fact, Remus did seem to get hangovers, perhaps it had been such a long time since then that he'd forgotten. Werewolves were notoriously hard to get drunk.

 

The wards stretched to much of the forest and he was about to set foot into them when he spotted something glowing and green on the floor and before he could even think about if that was wise, he had picked it up.

 

The green thing settled into his hand, evaporating into the palm and an indescribable pain swept over him. His screams rang through the night and he dropped to his knees.

 

Why did he have to be such a Gryffindor?

 

* * *

 

Well to Harry at least, it felt like he was screaming. In fact, when the pain hit, it was very different from removing the blocks on his magical core kind of pain because he knew what to expect. It was centred on his forehead and more painful than when Voldemort attempted to possess him back in the ministry of magic. As soon as the pain hit, he with the help of Lume and Thanatos retreated to the home of the souls where his undead Animagi friend resided. It wasn't intentional, but indeed some hidden force seemed to be urging him to come here.

 

Still, on his knees outside and within his mind now, Harry instead took a seat on the floor and tried to think through the pain.

 

“What happened?” He managed to gasp out through gritting his teeth, regretting not bringing a pair of dragon hide gloves when he saw the glowing green item.

 

Thanatos nickered gently, butting his hard nose against Harry's forehead.

 

“The extra soul piece within you is being drained, but not removed entirely. You picked up one of my tail hairs, death lining its surface. The killing curse once touched you and with it, the extra soul piece was placed. One more killing curse of a different, not harmful to you nature has upset the balance. Right now everything which is draining you slowly of health and magic is being pushed out, but the rest is here to stay. You might find little changes here and there such as improved memory and a more extensive knowledge of magic, as well as you still being able to speak Parseltongue. From what I know of Tom Riddle he is intelligent and once the pain has left you, the soul piece will be no more and instead the 'Best Bits.' will be a part of yours. Lume is helping us hold ground here, though the soul piece will not get very far trying to stay.”

 

How Thanatos was so knowledgeable about these things he didn't know, but at a guess, he was listening closely around him to conversations over the years and bits of information Harry himself may not have remembered. Either way, it was definitely useful now.

 

He nearly bit through his tongue in an effort not to cry out. Apparently, his pain tolerance wasn't high enough for this to feel like a mere pinprick then. His arms began to visibly tremble as though he'd lifted a great many weights and sweat clung to the back of his neck in droplets. Much as he was in a state, the world of souls wasn't in much better shape. The earth looked drier and more barren, the souls crying out and wandering aimlessly. Thanatos was standing guard over Harry, his presence an anchor, something to help ground Harry's soul, the Horcrux unable to latch with its overwhelming influence, as his tail hair unintentionally upset the balance.

 

The foundations of the soul world, or the very essence of himself, were shaking. The presence of something wrong around and within him wouldn't leave him alone, but the sensation didn't retreat nor get any further. It seems as though Voldemort was attempting to fight back but found it impossible to breach his defences soul to soul because he was never supposed to be there in the first place. Pushing Voldemort out with the very curse that marked Harry seemed almost poetic. As soon as the shaking started, it came to a sudden halt.

 

A mass of thick, inky liquid trickled gently from his scar and with it, was a pressure behind his head relieved of which he didn't realise he had. It hissed but didn't burn, leaving a smoky trail which seemed to carry on the breeze. He'd lived so long with the physical and mental barriers that he'd only just come to understand how much he'd truly been missing out on life. Understandable really with all that he'd been through, normal worries such as school and homework went out of the window.

 

_'Harry?'_

 

He found himself on the ground, hands and knees shaking. It was just as well he was already on the ground because he would've fallen over if not. Bile rose in his throat and he had to take a few deep breaths to prevent being sick. 

 

_'Harry, what's wrong? It's Alistair.'_

 

Ah.

 

He'd forgotten about the bracelet's capabilities. A slight flush rose to his cheeks as he listened to those wonderful melodic tones.

 

Shaking his head of stray thoughts in case the man picked them up, he righted himself and started to head back inside, having an idea for Thanatos' tail hairs that he would definitely look into after this conversation.

 

_'I'm fine. To cut a long story short, when Voldemort hit me with AK, he left a piece of his soul with mine. One of my Animagi forms is a physical representation of death and one of the tail hairs is very much like the killing curse. I picked one up without glove protection, it sunk into my hand, pushing the extra soul piece out but draining it of any value or worth. I'm a bit shook up but no worse for wear.'_

 

He could practically feel his alarm through the link they had.

 

_That is disturbing, to say the least. I have a feeling that with you around, life won't be quite so dull. As long as you're alright I'll leave you to your business. See you soon.'_

 

See him soon? 

 

 _'He must mean he'll speak with me through the link again. Yeah, that's it.'_ What else could he mean?

 

"Harry! What's wrong?"

 

He was pulled abruptly from his thoughts by Remus, who wrapped an arm around him in concern. He probably did look like hell and there was no way he couldn't have heard him scream, even without sensitive hearing. He flinched, but it was barely noticeable in comparison to the past. The Dursleys did a number on him, he had years of treatment by them to overcome and some mannerisms, habits and reflexes had been a part of him for so long. Remus was wonderful, he saw him as a friend and father figure in one, more so since the death of Sirius.

 

"Everything is fine now." Harry smiled slightly, though it came out as more of a grimace. There was a feeling of emptiness in his head but for all intents and purposes, there was a hole where a part of Voldemort's soul was. It was nothing which meditation couldn't right.

 

Remus gave him a questioning look and Harry patted the arm around his shoulder.

 

"It's a long story. There is something I need to do first but I will explain what I know." He gave Alistair the quickest version he could, but for Remus, he'd try to go in as much detail as possible, including all his encounters with Voldemort. It was the least he could do as Harry knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have bothered to fill him in on any of it.

 

 _'It's never easy with Harry is it?'_   The older man thought to himself, preparing for shocking news as Harry didn't do things by half.

 

His travels into the forest were fruitful, though he didn't go beyond the wards. They stretched for far enough anyway. He used a few stasis charms on these strange little plants he'd picked up, hoping Neville would find some use for them. They made a tinkling noise, much like cat bells when he drew close. They seemed to shy away from his touch once they were picked, but soon settled back to normal when they were left to their own devices.

 

As sidetracked as he was by those discoveries, he returned to his original thought. Although in one way he would like to do it, Harry didn't want to risk the legal repercussions of performing the killing curse on a bunch of death eaters. In his opinion despite the fate of his parents, it was a humane way to go, unlike the Cruciatus curse, Nevertheless, it was an unforgivable. What if, he could bottle Thanatos' tail hairs and throw them much like grenades? He said as much that the hairs would only be harmful to his enemies so his friends would be in no danger. He saw no reason not to try.

 

He'd place them in one of the storage trunks he'd take to Hogwarts with him. There were several of varying sizes. One which looked to be made of snakeskin really caught his eye. At a guess, they'd belonged to one of the members of the Potter family, as did the others.

 

The rest of his day before heading back to Hogwarts tomorrow was sorted, as far as he was concerned. As promised, he did go into more detail and Remus knew more about Harry than even Hermione and Ron did. It was an indication of how close they had grown over the summer, that Harry was willing to share such things. He tended to keep problems to himself and try to work them through on his own but it was nice to be able to rely on someone. Later he sat at his desk, conversing with Lume and Thanatos of how best to make use of scales, tail hairs and other Animagi body parts.

 

* * *

 

At an unmarked location, Tom Riddle, more commonly known as Lord Voldemort, gazed upon himself in shock. A hand moving at precisely the same time and the cool feel of glass under his fingers indeed confirmed that he was staring at his reflection.

 

He was still pale, but not the pale of a corpse recently cooled. His hands were long and thin, but not skeletal. The biggest change was his face.

 

While still retaining red eyes, his hair from youth was back, though different as in peppered with grey. His nose was pointed and well formed and with a tint of colour returned to his cheeks.

 

Lord Voldemort had regained some of his humanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter than normal, I might go back and edit it later but for now I'm happy with it :) next chapter, we hear from Severus.


	31. The Man in the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus has had quite the eventful summer but throughout it, he's come to a realisation. What if there's a 3rd option, one neither on the side of Light or Dark?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter! The only reason being is that I'm drawing and I have been since Saturday. I find myself so absorbed in what I'm doing I forget everything else, so it's best to do it now while I actually remember :P

Severus Snape twitched rather badly, at least for him, seated at his office desk and mercilessly slashing his way through student's essays as one would rush through a 20 mile an hour zone at 100 miles per hour. Not that he was aware of this, however, as despite being half-blood he really did connect more with his Wizarding roots than he ever did his Muggle, eager to drown himself in topics which didn't remind him of his bastard of a father, who was about as anti-magic as you could get.

  
Really, they were dunderheads, the lot of them. He wondered why he continued to torture himself with teaching when he didn't even like the brats, but then remembered the now beardless old coot up in his office, and was suddenly and annoyingly reminded of exactly why he couldn't just up and leave, perhaps retreat to one of the family homes on his mothers' side. Hell if it had an adequate potions lab he would happily spend his time in a dark cave somewhere and happily live up to the little idiot's ideas that he was in fact, a vampire bat.

 

While he enjoyed students and staff members alike flinching before his sharp tongue, it was always enjoyable to run out of red ink, such were the length of his disparaging comments.

 

_'Buttons, the day you lower yourself to plebeian standards and let your fingers touch a dictionary, surely hell would freeze over. The next time you hand in an essay which resembles that of a 5-year-old, you will not like the consequences.'_

 

That he enjoyed the suffering of others said a lot about him, really. That and his lack of social life, if being on his knees before the old coot and the snake faced bastard like some common Knockturn Alley whore could be counted as 'social.' he sneered at the thought.

 

If anyone who was not Severus looked at him, the twitch wouldn't be noticeable. As it was, his Dark Mark was not burning, but tingling rather curiously. He saw no reason to worry and after another comment which was sure to make Amanda Flairgold of Hufflepuff cry, he retired to his quarters to partake in a few glasses of sherry.

 

As he reclined into the soft leather armchair, he thought about all that had happened in his life up until now.

 

Thought. Thinking. Without it, his life would have been cut short long ago. He played a dangerous game, walking on the razor between the Light Lord and the Dark Lord and he was one of the people who were key into how the war could end.

 

That, and Potter. He frowned. Potter had changed and if he were honest, he would say it was for the better. While he certainly didn't appreciate the humiliation the brat bestowed upon him, he'd only just recently managed to spell body parts of his which were elsewhere, into the correct places. He didn't blame the boy. In fact, after the last disaster of the order meeting where some including him were affected with their worst nightmares, he decided that it wasn't worth it. Yes, he was angry and damning Potter, the pair of them in fact, to hell with the reliving of his most painful and humiliating memory, but wasn't how he treated the boy no better than how the marauders chose to treat him?

 

He had to admit himself, although grudgingly, that he'd hidden behind the excuse of treating Potter harshly due to Death Eater's children too well, while the real reason was that every time he saw Potter, he was thrown into the past. So much like his father and yet his eyes...

 

He snorted bitterly. It did him no good to linger on the past, he realised this. He had a decision to make and the last one he made had huge repercussions, resulting in one boy being left as an orphan.

 

He could join Dumbledore, in the fight for the light, though was that was it was about anymore? Severus believed that Albus had lost focus. His focus was on Potter more than stopping the threat of the Dark Lord.

 

This was further confirmed when he was asked to accompany Albus to Lupin's home, to speak with him, or so he'd thought.

 

Therefore, he'd been shocked when the man used Fiendfyre and he was sure he'd seen Moody cast a few spells. Talking and attempted murder were 2 entirely different things and the way that Shacklebolt and Weasley had been acting for the past several weeks made him eye them in suspicion. Rightly so it seemed, for the strange...dust? That had affected the meeting so profoundly had removed traces of spells.

 

Albus was becoming too much like The Dark Lord for Severus' liking. While there was no love lost between him and Lupin, he had no desire to kill the man, especially on Dumbledore's insistence that he'd gone dark. While the incident in his 6th year still scarred him, it was through no fault of Lupin's what had happened that night. Partly his fault for going where he shouldn't but Black's fault for leading him there. Lupin was as much of a victim as he was in this. If Albus had chosen not to defend him and if Severus had been bitten, he knew without a doubt Lupin would have been put to death.

 

Lupin was a puppy compared to Greyback and anyone with their head not buried in the sand was aware of this. The revelation that Lupin was indeed alive brought a small measure of relief to him, though he was in no way absolved of all blame, since standing by and allowing something to happen was just as bad as the one who had committed the act.

 

He had a choice. Another difficult one to make, when one considered things from all angles, but he had to decide.

 

Side with Voldemort, who was a certified madman and intent on the destruction of those lesser than him?

 

Or Dumbledore, who had lost sight of the real issues and was instead chasing after a boy who had according to him, defected?

 

Or the boy himself, Harry Potter, who was very much an innocent caught in the battle of adults. Though with everything he'd been through, perhaps not so innocent. Spying took its toll. Hatred sapped energy, energy very much needed for his daily life. While he could never see himself going out for a drink as best buddies with Potter in many years time, the least he could do was offer a silent truce.

 

6 years of hatred and it was about time Severus moved on. They all had bigger things to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, he's officially neutral, but it's up to you guys how you want him to be. Would you prefer him to call a truce with Harry and only work together in relation to the war effort and little things here and there, or would you prefer a friendship/partnership of sorts?


	32. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's coming to terms with the abuse he's lived through due to The Dursleys and wakes up to plan properly for his eventual trip to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I can confirm not one person wanted Harry and Severus to not eventually be friends, so the eventual friends route I will go!

_“BOY!"_

 

_Harry winced, arms wrapped around his too-thin frame, in an effort to protect himself. He knew it would be to no avail, that he was defenceless but sometimes, sometimes he liked to pretend he was bigger than his Uncle Vernon and he could beat him up but good._

_At 6 years of age, he looked more like a 4-year-old and he was forced to do various household chores no child his age should. He was washing the dishes, one in hand wiping clean perched on an unstable stool. Dudley 'accidentally' fell into it, sending the stool and him crashing to the floor, along with the loud smash of a plate on kitchen tiles._

_“You good for nothing freak! We give you the clothes on your back, a roof over your head and food from the kindness of our hearts and this is how you repay us? You're nothing but a burden!” Flecks of spit landed on Harry's face, his body stained in blood from the cut on his hands as he tried to pick the shattered pieces of the plate off the ground. He landed on his knees from the fall and he could feel a small shard sticking in, but he didn't dare move._

_“You need to be taught a lesson!” Vernon continued, bending down to his level only to grab him by the arm, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. He was dragged to the front door, only for it to open and he was unceremoniously thrown onto the ground outside._

_“You can stay outside all night, see if you have learned your lesson by morning. Freaks are like dogs, they need training. That will teach you to break household property!”_

_The door slammed shut, any warmth Harry had was immediately lost, replaced with bone-chilling coldness and the sharp pain of cuts._

_It was raining outside, the majority of it having washed the winter snow away, but still remaining as cold as ever. There was no dry patch to speak of, only the bushes in the garden offered a little protection._

_Crouching among the leaves, he wept bitterly. What did he ever do to deserve this? He didn't dare go to Mrs Figg. Not only would he not want to try and explain his injuries, but Vernon would know and as soon as he went back, cuts from broken plates and bruises would be the least of his worries._

_One day, he vowed, he would be stronger than Uncle Vernon. He would be better than Dudley and he would teach Aunt Petunia a lesson. They would all pay._

 

* * *

 

Harry woke with a start, the covers pooling around his waist. It was a warm night, so he favoured sleeping in boxers. It was so nice to have such luxuries as before this summer, he had no such thing. He had no freedom, no nothing.

 

He'd been having flashbacks of his childhood through sleep for a while now, more so since his murder of The Dursleys. He couldn't say he regretted what he'd done because he didn't. They were gone and in their place, was the page of a new book he could turn and move on. In truth, he'd never come to terms with just exactly what his so-called family did to him. Perhaps this was his mind's way of showing him how to deal with it. This particular dream was one of the worst memories, as from there stemmed his hatred of rain. No one knew how much he hated it, not even Remus. It just didn't seem an important topic to bring up. While playing Quidditch, the weather wasn't important to him as he was in the air, on a broom, free and all his focus was aimed towards catching the snitch. But walking to class or being outdoors in the rain, brought a small tendril of fear and loneliness. That night was a long one and he caught Pneumonia. Even with his magic, he was unable to heal properly until after 2 weeks as The Dursleys didn't try to help him feel better. In fact, they seemed to go out of their way to make his life even more miserable than he'd felt in that moment. He'd understood on a conscious level that they hated him, didn't love him but it was that day and night whereby the confirmation of this slapped him in the face.

 

 _'Vernon was such a bastard. All the times he claimed that I was costing him when in the end, it turned out they were being paid for keeping me!'_   He closed his eyes, bringing forth his shields to quiet the silent rage. It wouldn't do to be angry when meeting his friends later, in fact, he wanted a clear head to be able to effectively watch their reactions to see how much he'd changed. It should be fun.

 

The stipend which Dumbledore had set up for The Dursleys to help take care of him was another thing Harry had found out over his frequent trips to Gringotts. He'd looked at the contents of each vault and found items of interest including more properties, but this place really felt like home to him, even more than Hogwarts. Not only the building itself but the person he was with.

 

Harry couldn't help but smile. Remus was a diamond in the rough. He was a friend and father figure to him wrapped up in one and he loved him dearly. A tiny part of him was afraid to say it out loud, rejection was something he wasn't good at handling, due to frequent rejection on The Dursley's part. He expressed his love through other means. Usually, the words would come last. It's not that he didn't trust Remus, he trusted him more than anyone, it was simply his own fear.

 

Well, he was awake now, he didn't see much point in trying to sleep again. According to his magical alarm clock, much less annoying than its Muggle counterpart, it was 6 am. He was usually an early riser but could appreciate a lie in like any other person. While watching the sunrise was nice, the sunset would always be his favourite. He wasn't due to go on the train until a few hours, so there was enough time to work on his mental landscape for Occlumency and to talk with Thanatos and Lume.

 

Today was going to bring about more changes. He was excited to release Aela's essence back into her Basilisk body as he knew she wasn't happy here, as they'd not talked as much as usual. He would much rather have his usual animated tattoo without a voice so that she could be happy in her physical body once more.

 

That, and she'd spoke of some extra rooms in the chamber, one with a connection to lost spirits. His Animagi expressed an interest and if it was a place they could reside, Harry would have to go to this room to physically converse with them, though he was very much a part of them anyway, in his mind and animagi bodies.

 

He picked out a simple Red T-Shirt and shorts, his uniform and school supplies sorted. His blood glamour was the best thing to happen to him, he could go about his shopping in peace and no one cared. The anonymity was wonderful.

 

In that time, he'd found to his delight that the armor he'd received from the Fae was light and comfortable enough to be worn directly beneath his uniform. An Oak sceptre was in the highest security compartment in his trunk as while his Holly was was strong and his new Hargraven wand stronger, the weapons he received from the Fae, the Sceptre in particular, was pretty much a more mobile version of a Staff. Lighter, shorter and easier to carry but still packing a punch. One Reducto on a large patch of the forest he used in the requirement cupboard for Remus' future transformations left a 30-foot deep crater in the ground. He was well armed and would only use his Sceptre in extreme circumstances.

 

All in all, he was as ready as he was ever going to be for Hogwarts. With that thought in mind, he sat legs crossed on the bed, reinforcing Lume's mountain and Thanatos' world of souls so that any who breached his defences wouldn't be able to leave as easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was the summary I struggled with this time, damn it xD Not really much action to speak of this chapter, it was a little insight into Harry but next chapter, a bit more Harry/Remus bonding because I love it far too much :)


	33. Harry's Bullshit-ometer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's mind is fresh, clean and ready for the trip to Hogwarts. He's come a long way from how he used to be. That and Dumbledore's eye twinkle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter was meant to be Harry finally going to Hogwarts, but since when do things go to plan? Sorry guys! I pretty much write as I go and this chapter ended up being much longer than usual as ideas slapped me in the face out of nowhere. I'll go back and change that end note. A bit of swearing too! I don't know why I'm warning you all, if you've got this far you know I like to slip in words here and there :P

According to his mental clock, it was 9 am when Harry next opened his eyes. The surface thoughts were of very little use to those who were seeking information against him, so they were easily accessible in the thin mountain air of Lume's residence. The other thoughts, basic knowledge about him which people know or think they know, lay in the water and the rippling waves produced by the slight wind.

 

The real, dangerous thoughts however, about his Alliance with a Vampire and The Fae, plus his true thoughts, his power and the evidence that he's not as Gryffindor as he used to be, his connection to Voldemort and the Horcrux, not to mention he now knew there were more than just the one in his head, were in Harry's 2nd line of defence. Knowledge which if anyone knew, not only would he be in trouble, but certainly The Vampire community. He had to protect his mind for more than just him, though he was confident that at least his mental defences would keep Dumbledore and Snape's prying minds out of his own because he was more than sure that was how they seemed to know so much about him and his whereabouts. They thankfully never managed to get a reading when he lost control of his magic and it wrecked havoc. They would never know his plans if he had it his way.

 

Now if Alistair wanted to peek inside, he wasn't sure he could keep a Vampire out since he was at over a 1,000 years disadvantage but then again, from what little Harry knew of the charming man, he didn't seem the type to go rummaging through a mind as one would a packet of crisps. He'd found, once his judgement wasn't clouded, all the blocks on his core removed and the sludge of the Horcrux gone, that he was a good judge of character usually, but was never allowed to act on it. The one wrong friendship turned out to be Ron for he had no doubt that Hermione was telling the truth. That, and events over the years seemed to indicate dishonesty, not to mention their supposed friendship dissolving and being put back together with weaker and weaker bonds due to the other boy's jealousy.

 

He wasn't sure how he'd see Ron now that the figurative blinds were away from his eyes. Hermione knew and by extension, he knew the truth, but would his former best friend's actions seem obvious to him? Somehow, he had a feeling that once Ron understood he was his own man, his true colours would show.

 

For a moment, he dulled his senses to everything other than the concentration of magic, sensing that Remus was downstairs, most likely having his usual brew and The Daily Prophet. He released the stasis charm he had in his hair. He'd decided to let it grow out a bit as he couldn't really choose a particular style, though he did like the undertones of green. What he really liked, however, is that while he'd never be tall, he'd come a long way from the much shorter than average and skinny teen he used to be before the summer.

 

He'd grown a few inches, enough for him to be satisfied. What muscles Quidditch had left him with had only developed and bulked more. He had a well-defined six-pack as his shirt clung to them almost like a second skin. He still sported a healthy golden tan and without his glasses and adding his Serpent nose ring and Lion ear studs, he was almost unrecognisable, if not for his unusual shade of green eyes and scar.

 

“I wonder if after all this is over, skin graft surgery could fix this scar? Unless it dies with Riddle, of course.” He thought aloud, waving his hand and having the things he'd need for Hogwarts trail after him.

 

He looked over the house once more. It would be a short while before he'd return here and he'd honestly miss the place. In the end, he didn't really redecorate the inside of the manor much. The only things which had changed were the inside of his and Remus' room. While Harry's was open and airy with a general blue and grey theme, Remus had opted for warmer colours, with a hint of beige here and there. Both of them tended to the gardens, Harry more so, as while The Dursleys were unpleasant, he did learn to enjoy the beauty of nature unlike Mr Blob and Baby Blob, as he'd 'affectionately' nicknamed them in his childhood. Not that he ever said it aloud, of course. TV was a rarity and now that Harry was older, he wasn't going to bother now, so, therefore, was rather indifferent.

 

This summer was the best he'd had and the addition of Remus only made it more so. With a happy smile and flush in his cheeks, he parked his trunk by the front door, going to join Remus in the kitchen.

 

All in all, Harry thought he was rather silent when he slipped into the chair near Remus' but was slightly surprised when he was greeted by a cheery morning.

 

“I didn't think you'd notice me, It looked like The Daily Prophet had your attention.” He said around a mouthful of strawberry Crêpes, a definite luxury when at The Dursleys and now that he didn't have to worry about them anymore, he'd happily fill his slowly expanding stomach with the sweet goodness.

 

Remus had once told him that while Werewolves sometimes could sense magic, he was not one of them, though he did say something was stronger in place.

 

“I could smell you coming down the stairs.” He replied offhandedly, eyes still fixed on the newspaper.

 

Yes, that was what was reinforced, his sense of smell. He often forgot that Remus was a werewolf, as absurd as it sounded. How could you forget about someone who turned into a furry animal once a month?

 

The truth was, Harry didn't care enough for it to ever affect the relationship he had with him. Mostly his reaction when he was 13 stemmed from the fact that he was still in shock and awe of Dragons and Unicorns having a basis of reality in this new world to him but now that it had all sunken in and he'd broken free from the binds of Dumbledore, he was able to forge the friendships he wanted.

 

He loved Remus, all of Remus, including Moony. Years with The Dursleys not so silent judgement of him and other people outside of their perfectly abnormal family instilled good character sense and open-mindedness. He strived to be the opposite of them and flourished into his own person.

 

Moony was Remus and Remus was Moony. They were one and the same but separate too. While he didn't care about his affliction, he knew Remus struggled more than Werewolves like Fenrir. Remus didn't embrace the change, the blood-lust and that's why The Wolfsbane worked so well for him, it quelled the more primal urges beneath the full moon. When Harry went off to Hogwarts, he'd come back each month and help him as his shoulder massages eased the stiffening of the older man's muscles. He was happy to help.

 

Not to mention helping Remus in his naked state would hopefully banish Harry's constant blushing.

 

He'd eaten 3 Crêpes but decided that he wouldn't exactly go bust with 2 more. He took his time as he did with the others, though he used to consume food at a breakneck speed which would leave him with indigestion afterwards, an ingrained fear of what little to eat he had being taken from him. Since starting Hogwarts he'd tried to slow down and allow himself to appreciate food more and this summer, he'd finally made a breakthrough.

 

Closing his eyes in satisfaction, he reclined in the kitchen chair, head turning slightly in Remus' direction. “Anything fascinating and not lined with bullshit that Rita has to report? Though I'm sure she hasn't forgotten Hermione's threat to out her as an illegal Animagus in our 4th year.”

 

That made Remus pay full attention, as he quirked an eyebrow, locking eyes with Harry. “Remarkable. Though from what I remember of Hermione as her Professor, not surprising. You're right though. Her articles are tamer than I've ever seen them. The only thing of note is a small column on the new DADA teacher this year. It looks like you'll get a decent education for once.” He silently handed over the newspaper, going cross-eyed as Harry's finger pointed between his eyes.

 

“Don't disregard your teaching skills.” Harry admonished. “You did a great job. While some imbeciles would run a mile from you, I'll take my chances with a man who has excessive hair growth once a month compared to a year of a golden-headed, self-obsessed cock and a once competent teacher possessed by the spirit of a mad bastard.”

 

Remus' chuckle was rather watery. He was touched. “Thank you, Harry.” He smiled affectionately, patting the outstretched hand.

 

Harry smiled in return, silently agreeing with Remus. There wasn't much of interest except for the column on the DADA teacher, which he quickly flicked through.

 

_As our readers will know, Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore has hired some questionable members of staff over the years but none more so than DADA teachers, none of which have lasted more than a year. But this year, will we be proven wrong, that the Headmaster is not losing focus of what's important in his wise old age?_

_Not a lot of information could be gathered about this years' DADA teacher, but it looks as though Hogwarts students are in for an excellent education. This soon to be Professor is a Duelling Champion across multiple countries, including France, Bulgaria, Africa, Germany and America but to name a few, not to mention qualifications and official documents signed by each Minister of Magic stating that this individual, for I do not know if it is a he or she, is legally able to instruct students in the art of Defense Against the Dark Arts as their mastery of the subject is recognised and accepted by most countries which actively teach their students._

_I approached Headmaster Dumbledore with a request for a statement, which he accepted. “I have always believed in the best quality of education for my students and their safety is my top priority.” He said, eyes twinkling as is usual. “I have high hopes for this years' Professor and I welcome them to the staff with open arms.”_

 

Now at this point, Harry took what he thought was a refreshing sip of orange juice while catching up on some mildly interesting news. However, the level of bullshit caught him by such surprise, that the mouthful he was about to swallow instead sprayed across the table and a few thumps on the back by Remus stopped his coughing.

 

“What is this?” He managed to wheeze out. “Dumbledore, putting students education and safety above all? Am I in an alternate dimension? See, this is how you know he's about to bullshit everyone, it's his eye twinkle. I call it his Bullshit-ometer. I'm just sad that I actually did look up to him once, after all he's done.”

 

He'd deal with Dumbledore. One day, people would know the truth.


	34. A Wolf and His Cub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though Remus and Harry were very much friendly with each other and both enjoyed sharing the same living space, neither had yet shared their true feelings. A split second decision changes that and feelings are made clear. That and what's the tapping at the window?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did intend for some feels, but as usual, things don't go to plan. I'd class this as more feels than I expected and some fluff too.

Remus sat back, simply gazing at Harry for a moment. He was correct, Dumbledore isn't the symbol of light which he portrays himself to be or what the people chose to see. Even before he nearly died at the hands of the man, before he was in school.

 

It was obvious that The Headmaster had his favourites and when in a position of authority, you're supposed to treat students equally and give them just as equal opportunities and certainly not favour one side. Even as a former Gryffindor it was how Remus functioned during his brief time there as a staff member.

 

Albus did not.

 

He considered both himself and Severus as the victims in the situation during their 6th year. He was unsure what was spoken between Severus and Albus all those years ago but he remembered smelling the bitter undercurrent of resentment and hatred emanating from Severus for several days afterwards before once again Potion fumes choked up his senses.

 

Sirius wasn't punished. Not by Albus at any rate but Minerva had plenty to say on the subject if the 2 weeks detention he received wasn't any indication of her feelings.

 

The truth was, Sirius never really had the chance to grow, flourish. While he physically may have grown and changed, mentally and emotionally was a different story. He'd spent 12 years locked away in the worst Wizarding prison with good mind shields due to his Pureblood upbringing, but nothing which could withstand the force of Dementors.

 

While it was true that he had Padfoot to fall back on, there was still the issue of isolation and the knowledge that he was innocent, yet no one believed him, not even he, Sirius' partner.

 

He was stunted at the worst time. While James grew up after Severus nearly died, for Sirius it would take longer.

 

He wasn't as carefree and confident as he used to be. So many years of the Sirius he remembered, it was a shock to his system to see the shell of a man he cherished, who he still did. While Sirius had to learn to function again, the one thing which remained normal was their relationship. After leaving for James' house at 16, Sirius finally mustered up the courage to ask Remus out. It's not as if he was expecting it, on the contrary. He'd been harbouring a crush on his best friend for a while but he'd never expected it to be returned.

 

They'd left on a wonderful note. A promise that one day, they would marry, be it the Muggle or Wizarding way, if that's what Remus wanted, but he loved him even without official documents.

 

And then a short few years later, when he'd regained the man he loved, he was gone, just like that.

 

There wasn't even a grave he could go to. No body and he was still considered a criminal.

 

Sirius was in limbo and right now, Remus felt as if he was too.

 

Harry's words blurred in his mind, not even penetrating his sensitive ears as he was lost in memories of what could have been. Bowing his head, he was unaware he'd closed his eyes until silent tears escaped from beneath them.

 

* * *

 

Apparently, Harry had wanted to have a good rant about Dumbledore for a while because he was halfway through cursing the man and his old coot tendencies when he sensed something wasn't right. He stopped mid-sentence and glanced over to Remus only to notice with some confusion, mostly worry and concern, that Remus was crying.

 

He shuffled his chair closer to the man's side. “Remus? What's wrong?”

 

“Sirius.” He croaked, palming his face with both hands.

 

One word, but a word significant to both men and tied to so many memories.

 

It was a struggle not to break into tears himself but he was more often silently irritated or angry as a way of dealing with emotions than to cry it out. He'd never had as a child and as a young adult, it was much harder to do.

 

Despite being somewhat emotionally stunted, he'd developed an incredible sense of empathy and he truly hated to see someone he cared about being in pain.

 

He knew after this, that their relationship would once again turn on its head. He'd never initiated anything like this, not properly. He pushed aside, just for that moment, the fear that was making his hands tremble. The fear of rejection. Bugger The Dursleys because Remus was in need right now.

 

He didn't say anything, what could he say in response? He wasn't a Counsellor and he never would be. He'd have to at least have his own life sorted before he could help someone on the journey to fixing theirs.

 

He hesitantly reached over to embrace Remus, both arms firmly, if a little awkwardly, wrapped around his middle. His heart was going a mile a minute. He shouldn't be so terrified as even lost in grief as Remus was, he could surely smell it. He didn't release his hold, however, just prayed for the best and was instantly rewarded with his courage when arms held him in turn. It was a slightly unusual position they were in as Harry's knees were between the other man's legs, as both were still seated.

 

Classing the waters as officially tested and with his heart threatening to land with a plop on the floor, he then spoke the words he'd dearly wanted to say to someone for the first time, but fear had held him back.

 

“I love you.” His voice trembled slightly as he came to the understanding that the comfort he was giving Remus was something which he needed too. He buried his face in the man's shoulder, feeling the heartbeat against his own chest which eventually calmed his down. He wasn't being rejected yet.

 

“I love you too.” His own voice was beyond trembling since he was only just starting to stop the flow of tears but through the haze of sorrow, he knew that this was a big step for Harry, to take the initiative in something like this. He hadn't shared the little details here and there about his former family but he knew enough to know that they were not the right people for Harry to grow up with.

 

And every word was true. He'd never cared for anyone as much as Harry since Sirius and even then it was in an entirely different way. He'd always wanted children but with his condition and sexuality, it wasn't possible. James and Sirius were a part of his small pack, his family. Peter never was and now the reason was made clear but back then, it was a mystery of why Moony would reject him.

 

When James died, it was as though a piece of him died alongside the body. Lily brought sorrow too as while they were never truly close, she made for a very pleasant study partner and her sweet smell was calming to him. That and James loved her. Then Harry.

 

Only the two kept him sane but then when Harry was taken away and Sirius imprisoned, he was back to being just as alone as he was locked in his parent's basement in a cage as a child during the full moon.

 

All this and more thoughts flickered past as he gently carded a hand through the younger man's hair, for a moment forgetting that he was in fact not a baby anymore and might not take kindly to such an act, before smiling gently as his tears finally came to a stop, when a head was tilted to lean into the touch.

 

Words couldn't describe Harry's relief at the reciprocation of his feelings. Before this, they'd established a good mentor/friendship but beyond that, he was unsure where they stood. Remus was one of the most important people in his life and to know that he wasn't rejected let his heart sing.

 

He settled into the embrace for a few moments, enjoying the normality of things for once in his life. He was very much independent but he'd be lying if he said he didn't need this kind of support at all. He pulled away, only to take one of Remus' hands in his own, sliding the fabric of his shirt upwards until they brushed the skin Padfoot was etched into.

 

“He's not just in our hearts, he's right here with us.” Green eyes locked with Amber as they shared a moment of mutual love and understanding.

 

“You're right, Harry.” Remus kept his hand there for a moment, summoning a bottle of brandy to add to his tea.

 

Whatever train of thought either man was on stopped at a loud tapping coming from the kitchen window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can guarantee this time, no bullshitting, that next chapter is the continuation of this and Harry saying his goodbyes and the chapter after that is most definitely 100% Kings cross station and the train ride. I'm slightly worried that it's taking me too long to get to the point and if people feel this way I'll certainly try to ignore the ideas that slap me in the face while I'm trying to write what I plan :P But if people like how things are going that's good too.


	35. New Responsibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's in for one or two shocks but for a change, they're nice ones. He says his goodbyes to Remus and returns to the first place he ever felt welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of title ideas. Chapter's a little short, there wasn't much to say here, just wrapping things up.

Harry was alert despite the assurance that no owl could find either of them if the contents were harmful. “Are you expecting any mail?” He asked while going to retrieve said mail. If it was something needing a reply, they'd have to use this owl since he'd sent Hedwig off to Hogwarts last night. It was better for her than to be kept in a cage for the duration of his ride to Hogwarts.

 

Remus looked up from what he was drinking. “Not that I'm aware of. Harry, did you ever get your OWL results?”

 

Harry stopped midway through feeding the postal owl, who took the remaining treats from his hand and flew off while he was still in thought.

 

He was meant to have received them mid-August if he remembered correctly, but he didn't. Was that what this is? He didn't know why they hadn't come before now but that was the only thing he could think of.

 

He looked at the letter in silence. The Hogwarts seal was embossed on the front and he'd already received the letter listing the requirements for 6th year, though he'd taken care of that a while ago now.

 

Breaking the seal, he wandered back to his seat, looking at the contents inside.

 

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_Please see below the results of your OWLS (Ordinary Wizarding Level) Examinations._

_O- Outstanding_

_E- Exceeds Expectations_

_A- Acceptable_

_P- Poor_

_D- Dreadful_

_T- Troll_

 

_Charms: E_

_Transfiguration: O_

_Herbology: A_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: O_

_Potions: O_

_Care of Magical Creatures: E_

_Astronomy: A_

_Divination: P_

 

_History of Magic: D_

 

_Congratulations Mr Potter, you have scored the highest marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts seen since Tom Riddle. Find enclosed your certificate._

 

Below his exam results was a handwritten note.

 

_Mr Potter,_

_My apologies for your late OWL Exam results. As your head of house, I see to every student under my care including exam results but the Headmaster was insistent. On multiple occasions, he tried to personally send you your results but they always returned unopened. I am unsure as to the reason why unless your location is under fidelus. I have sent this copy and if it is not returned, I shall know you have received it. I hope that you have had a pleasant summer despite the hardships that you've endured and allow me to personally congratulate you, your parents would be proud. Pass on my regards to Mr Lupin, I will see you at Hogwarts._

_Minerva McGonagall_

 

At first, Harry assumed her congratulations were for his results when 2 shining items slid into his hand.

 

**Quidditch Captain**

 

**Prefect**

 

Harry was still surprised at how well he did. At the time he was uncaring of his results and in truth, he still didn't care as much as he probably should. Too much had happened to him to regard his education as the most important factor of his life. History of Magic came as no surprise due to the vision he had but Potions was a definite shock. Snape would have to let him into his Newt class. Not that he had any desire to be there as much as he wanted Harry there but everyone has to do some things they don't like. At the rate he was going, he could be the next youngest Potions master. He stopped that train of thought immediately. While he was actually decent at Potions, the thought of being Snape's apprentice was as though someone was walking over his grave and he'd yet to be buried. Trouble always seemed to find him but in that case, he would be asking for it. 

 

DADA he knew he'd do well in but he didn't expect Voldemort to be mentioned. A brief flicker of amusement crossed his face as he imagined Voldemort reading a letter from The Ministry about Harry beating his OWL score as if he wasn't plotting world domination a few seconds ago, old grades in school would hardly matter to him now.

 

The thought had never crossed his mind about having a position of authority at Hogwarts, but now he had two. Would he have time? Naturally, he was honoured and would accept, but any 'extracurricular' activities would have to be properly planned around his upcoming duties.

 

He personally thought McGonagall was losing her raving na-na. Quidditch Captain was fair enough in his opinion, it didn't tie up as much with behaviour in and around school since it was an optional activity, but a Prefect? He didn't have the best track record. Killing a teacher, even if it was in self-defense and by complete accident, should have been an indication of what she was getting into and the general theme of each school year. However, he was not the head of Gryffindor and therefore wouldn't question anything which would move people's attention from his several monikers gained from when he was a baby and did nothing, to something which he'd somehow earned.

 

“Remus, catch!” Harry flung the small badges in his direction and pouted when he stopped their descent with magic. “That's cheating.”

 

“Not cheating if you didn't set any rules.” He ignored the stuck out tongue in favour of being more adult of the two and smiled softly at what he held in his hands. He looked over the letter Harry passed him as he retook his seat.

 

“I'm so proud of you, I know Lily and James would be too.” His warm amber gaze caught Harry's and chuckled when the younger flushed. “You need blush training Harry, more often than not your face is red rather than just tanned.”

 

He ruffled his hair, an unconscious gesture picked up from his father. “One day I'll feel embarrassed like a normal human being.”

 

“That will be the day.” He muttered to himself, whistling nonchalantly at Harry's mock glare. “I would suggest we frame your certificate but taking into consideration just who you beat, perhaps not.”

 

Harry chuckled. “I'll keep it though. Maybe I'll take it with me on the battlefield. Show it to him and hope that he dies in a fit of apoplectic rage.”

 

“I shall leave that up to you.” Remus pushed the certificate in his direction. “It's about time for you to go I believe. Are you sure you don't want me to see you off at the station?”

 

“It's not that I don't want you to,” He protested, standing up. “It's just..”

 

“I know.”

 

Harry would love for the one person he cared about to see him off at the station but considering who it was, he didn't want to take any risks. Dumbledore could have planned something in the eventuality that Remus showed up and Harry couldn't bear if something happened, he was safer at Evergreen than at the station. He could say his goodbyes all the same.

 

“What will you ever do without my company? I don't think fleas are quite as good as I am.”

 

Harry dodged a slap upside the head, grinning slightly. “I know I know, you don't get fleas in your wolf form. I'll visit when I can and come back for your transformations, ok?”

 

Remus stood up as well, grasping his shoulder. “It goes without saying, but be careful. Albus is more cunning than people give him credit for.”

 

This was something Harry came to realise in a short amount of time.

 

“I will.” As they waved their goodbyes to each other, Harry applied his blood glamour and quickly got changed into his uniform once in the hallway. Picking up his trunk, he exited the manor and apparated away, leaving his second home only to attend his first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told in school that in my writing, I'm not good at getting to the point and this apparently still applies. I will try to alter that side of me but we're finally here! Next chapter Harry sees his friends once more, as well as enemies. How will they react?


	36. Mirror Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's at King's Cross, on the way to meet his friends. And parents. He didn't expect to go from having his ribs nearly crushed to wanting to melt into a puddle of nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally went from this, to immediately writing Harry/Severus smut. I posted it yesterday and it's nearly on 1K hits. We're all filthy xD

Although everything looked as it should as he arrived on the platform, Harry still kept his senses alert. Not as busy as it was his first year, the definite return of Voldemort had struck fear into the hearts of the masses, so public places, even to drop off children to school, was something to be wary of.

 

Walking to platform 9¾, he could detect nothing out of the ordinary, visually or magically, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone watching him. Perhaps he was too paranoid? He may have always been this way, slipping from beneath Dumbledore's thumb and out of his ring of influence had brought with it a return of common sense, independent thinking and as Mad-Eye says, Constant Vigilance.

 

"Constant Vigilance indeed." He sneered to himself. The old Auror had better have a good explanation on why he participated in the attempted murder of Remus, or he'd shove that magical eye so far up his arse, not even the best at St Mungo's could remove it.

 

As for Bill and Kingsley? He wasn't so sure. It seemed out of character but taking Ron into consideration, he would hold back his judgment and accusations until he knew, the same with Snape.

 

Dumbledore, however, he wouldn't offer the chance. It was likely he knew that Harry knew, but he'd keep an eye on him. As much as he'd love to file several complaints, it wouldn't wash over.

 

Everyone sees him as The Leader of The Light, with no perspectives but their own. It was either how he wanted the masses to see him, or the ones who could slip behind the carefully crafted mask of cheerfulness. His influence and reputation were practically untarnished and he came across as a dotty and slightly eccentric yet powerful old wizard than the cunning, manipulative nasty piece of work that he was and while he respected Bones, as she was unbiased as they came, people would have to understand the other side first.

 

Not to mention that if Umbridge got wind of just who was attacked, she'd no doubt spout her filth and opinions about werewolves. But that wouldn't last for long. He was pretty certain that it was on no one's authority that she used a blood quill on several minors, not to mention an unforgivable.

 

Yes, if Harry had it his way, and he had every intention of making that possible, Umbridge would be reliving her worst memories for a very long time.

 

He watched as a couple and their 2 children passed through the barrier to the Hogwarts express. He was unsure of the spells used on the platform but he was certain there were actually spells, or a long line of muggles would be entering themselves into the nearest mental hospital, as they had just seen people walk straight through a wall and disappear.

 

Years previously, he would've run through the barrier, more due to the fear of the unknown and nerves but now, it wasn't needed. He strolled casually through, keeping a now sharp eye out for his friends.

 

Within a couple of seconds or so, he spotted his best friend's bushy brown hair, though it looked to not be as charged with energy as usual. In fact, they were more curls than they were frizz, as he drew closer to her unsuspecting back.

 

She was talking with an older couple, what he presumed to be her parents, who he'd never actually met.

 

He waited for a small lull in the conversation, before letting his presence be known.

 

"Hermione."

 

She turned around fast, hair almost whipping her in the face. He had the strong urge to laugh as he could read her so much better than he used to, now that he was able to pay more attention. Her eyes held a split second of confusion then lit with recognition, as she realised what she was seeing. Her eyes widened almost comically as they looked incredulously up and down his form.

 

"Harry! Is that really you? Oh, what a stupid question of course it is! How are you? You look so different, it's wonderful really-"

 

He placed his hands on her shoulders lightly, stopping her mid-sentence. "Breathe. I want to talk with you, not levitate your unconscious body onto the train." The grin wouldn't leave his face.

 

She did breathe, a huff outwards, before the wheels turned in her mind and her usual sense caught up. Well, maybe not the rational and calm side.

 

"HARRY!" Her squeal was muffled as she nearly squeezed the life out of him, her hair tickling his nose.

 

"It's good to see you too, but I also need to breathe." He joked.

 

He was released, so he could check that indeed all of his ribs were in the correct working order.

 

"Sorry." Her cheeks tinged a little. A closer look at her now that she wasn't frantic with excitement revealed that he wasn't the only one going through physical changes.

 

Her hair was tamer, it seemed with age it had grown more manageable. She was now the smallest of the trio, as Harry used to take that spot. It wasn't so much that her body had changed, he wouldn't know since he didn't regard Hermione anything more than a sibling, her eyes held some of the same light which he saw in himself.

 

The truth. Her unwavering and blind trust in authority figures was ripped away much like a plaster on a wound. She'd seen the world and its people for how they really could be. Much like Harry, he did place his trust in people, but only after they'd earned it. He was unsure of if she was under spells placed by the headmaster or if she was left alone, but either way Hermione had gained a different sort of maturity, a more independent way of thinking.

 

Her intelligence how held a sharper, keener edge to it and something told Harry that as proven by the previous 5 years, she would be of invaluable help again.

 

"Harry." his focus returned to his friend and the couple stood before them. She gestured with a wave of her hand in their direction. "These are my parents. Mum, Dad, this is Harry."

 

The elder man shook his head, turning to his wife. "Emma, this is Harry! Who'd have thought it? Not that she'd accidentally kill just anyone with one squeeze, mind you."

 

Emma rolled her eyes affectionately. "Now really Dan. Is that any way to speak about Hermione's boyfriend?"

 

Harry was ready to sink through the stone floor and Hermione's protests were cut off by laughter.

 

"I'm joking dear." She patted her daughter on the shoulder before turning to Harry.

 

"Hello." he nodded his head in politeness before offering a hand to shake, which she took.

 

"It's nice to meet you at last. If it's not her education Hermione talks about, it's you," she spoke while Harry shook hands with Dan.

 

Dan clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Boyfriend or no boyfriend, take care of my daughter for me. While we don't know much of what goes on in your world, I know enough to be worried."

 

"With all due respect sir, Hermione has looked after me from the start. The number of times her intelligence has gotten us out of trouble, she should be awarded for services to the school." Harry glanced at Hermione, smiling in gratitude which she returned.

 

He chuckled slightly. "That's my girl."

 

"We'd better let you go. You really must visit us sometime Harry, we want to hear your side of the adventures!" Emma winked, the pair saying their goodbyes to Harry, as Hermione lead them both back through the barrier, then returned to his side.

 

"I didn't know you were my girlfriend. Did you?" He dodged a punch to the shoulder, running for the train.

 

"Harry!" She laughed slightly, running after him. "I think I see Ginny over there."

 

 _'And where there is a Ginny, there would certainly be a Ron.'_   He wasn't exactly intimidating now, not even with his height advantage. Whatever Ron said or didn't say, Harry would be watching him carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you like Dan and Emma? I'm using those names mainly because that's what other people call them, I don't really know if they have canon names.


	37. One More Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry was the golden boy, the Gryffindor. This summer, the mask crumbled so he could flourish into the man he was meant to be. Part Gryffindor, part Slytherin. It was time for him to embrace his courage and use his cunning. What was one more mask to fool the untrustworthy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is only part time, but A-Level Counselling Skills is pretty taxing. It's cool I can turn to writing and relax a bit :)

Harry looked on, a smile in his eyes as he watched Hermione approach Ginny. He'd missed his friends over the summer and they were key members of the DA. He'd have to discuss with everyone if he should continue running the DA this year if people were still interested.

 

Mrs Weasley was fretting, making sure everyone going to Hogwarts had what they needed, as it was every year. Ron was looking sullen as she seemed to be admonishing his ear off. He was surprised to see Arthur, as he thought he'd be at work. He looked rather weary, he noted with some concern.

 

He trailed behind Hermione, as she struck up a conversation with Ginny, gesturing to him. This time, he snickered as he approached the pair.

 

Ginny wolf whistled, catching his eye. "Wow Harry, you look fantastic! I'll have to owl Fred for his old beater's bat, you'll need someone to defend you from the droves of Hogwarts students who want to see what lies under those now form-fitting robes." She looked up and down his body, grinning slightly. "I have a feeling that Hogwarts will become far more interesting. You'll be the talk for different reasons this time, looks like the summer has been good for you." The three turned their heads at the sudden shout of Mrs Weasley.

 

"Ronald, close your mouth! It's very unsightly." Meeting his ex-best friend's gaze, Harry smirked as Ron's jaw was practically dislocated from how wide it was.

 

"Keep an eye out for Neville and Luna. If I'm not back in a few minutes, save me a compartment, I'll just say hi to Mr and Mrs Weasley."

 

He ignored Ron, who seemed frozen to the spot until a not so light slap to the head righted him, though the mother nearly joined the son in shock as she got a good look at Harry.

 

"Harry, is that you dear? Oh, you look wonderful, such a handsome young man!" He was then greeted with the Molly Weasley hug that he'd come to grow fond of over the years.

 

"It is me, Mrs Weasley. I've finally discovered who I am over the holidays and what I want. And I feel great." He was fine for being honest here, though the cautious side of him wanted to find out where she stood with Dumbledore. Mr Weasley's letter gave Harry an idea, but he hoped he could trust her.

 

"I'm so pleased for you." Her eyes looked genuine. "You'd better go see Arthur before you leave, I know he wants to speak with you in person."

 

It looked as though she wanted to say something more, but instead patted him on the shoulder and went over to greet Hermione.

 

Arthur was already on his way over, his weary look replaced by an honest smile before his wand slipped out of his sleeve to cast some privacy charms. "I see getting away from Albus has done you the world of good. How are you both?"

 

Harry's eyes lit with happiness. "We're both fine. Remus is healed from the attack and I think it's the one time he's thankful for his wolfish traits. Otherwise, he would've died in that fire. What does Mrs Weasley think, and the others?"

 

Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Molly loves you, Harry, as do I. We see you as one of our own but it will take her time to understand that Albus isn't all that he seems. She knows this, as she was there when your howler arrived at Headquarters. She's conflicted. Her love for you is warring against her loyalty to Albus so she's on the fence. I've spoken with her about this and she's not a supporter of killing in any form, sometimes to her detriment. Kingsley and Bill were not willing participants when Albus tried to kill Remus. Whatever magic you two came up with dissolved the hold Albus had over them. I know that Bill wants to talk with you in person and so does Kingsley. As for Severus," He hesitated. "I'm not sure. He may approach you at Hogwarts so be on your guard, just in case. Minerva is on your side, she always has been. Tonks has been tasked by Dumbledore to follow you in school, but as a member of the family, even if she wanted to, to betray you would mean that the laws of magic would punish her, as you are one of the sole remaining heirs of Black. She'll morph into a student and keep an eye on you, but only report back with meaningless facts."

 

Harry took his time to process all this. It was better than he'd hoped, to be honest, but he would still rather see for himself. Still, the more people on his side, the more it would shake other's confidence in Dumbledore.

 

He shook Arthur's hand in gratitude. "Thank you, I appreciate your support and help. How have you been?"

 

"I have been better. Dolores Umbridge has recently returned from St Mungos after the incident with the Centaurs. It took a while before she could distinguish between the sound of footsteps and hooves and at first, they had to place a silencing charm around her bed so that she wouldn't panic. The sound of hooves still gives her panic attacks and everyone knows this, thanks to Skeeter. She's been poking her nose in different departments, sneering down her nose at me and I quote, _'Filthy muggle objects.'_

 

Harry could feel a headache coming on and this time, not from his scar. He sighed sadly. "A shame they didn't keep her, isn't it?"

 

Arthur tried to look stern, he really did, but he'd never been an enforcer, so his amusement won out. "Centaurs are not known for their love of humans. They'd be doing us a favour if they did choose to keep her. Unfortunately for them, they landed with the worst of our species, save for You Know Who."

 

"I'm not entirely sure he's human anymore." And wasn't that the truth? The Horcruxes had removed whatever humanity he had left. "I'd better be off Mr Weasley, take care of yourself." He waved a goodbye, heading back towards Hermione and Ginny, joined now by Neville and Luna.

 

"Hello Harry, you don't have as much of a Nargle infestation this year." He was greeted with a usual Luna statement accompanied by a tilt of the head, her dangling radish earrings and no outward sign of shock or surprise. She was a particularly smart Ravenclaw. For all he knew, she was expecting this.

 

"Harry, nice to see you again, you're looking great." Neville shook his hand warmly, a genuinely bright smile on his face.

 

Harry was at peace. As much as he'd loved the summer and what it had brought, he'd missed his friends.

 

Well, he was almost at peace.

 

"Alright mate, have a good summer?"

 

His 4 friends looked on as Ron stood behind Harry, oblivious to what he didn't know was his former best friend's testing of patience.

 

Harry took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. What did you usually do when you were angry, count back from 10? It had never worked for him before. He'd fly around as Lume, but somehow Harry didn't think that would go over well in either the Wizarding or Muggle world. Ron's betrayal had hit him hard, but in its place, he'd found another friend and father figure. While Ron wasn't the first friend he'd made, he was one of the longest and closest he had, or so he'd thought. He could do this. He'd have to employ his best acting skills around certain people anyway, he could fool Ron. He was part Slytherin, after all. 

 

A casual shrug shook his shoulders and he gritted his teeth at the supposedly friendly slap on the back. Ron wasn't the brightest of sparks. All he saw was a friendly grin and couldn't read the Avada Kedavra in those green eyes.

 

"Yeah, it was pretty good mate. We're off to find a compartment. Coming?"

 

He didn't wait for an answer, leading the group of 6 onto the train, silently contemplating. _'How many ways can one torture a Ronald Bilius Weasley?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Counting back from 10 never worked for me either. I grew frustrated with the slow pace we had to take to get to 1 xD It was me who had to take Anger Management and not my tormentors, go figure -_- Anyway next chapter! Ah, the train ride, prefects and Malfoy, that's my plan but as of yet unwritten :P


	38. Ronald The Responsible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a surprise for everyone, but someone else has a surprise too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this is posted on Tuesday, but I usually have to go back and change the publication date because 'It can't be in the future.' Even though I post after midnight :P

It wasn't long before Harry located a compartment. With Ron there, he couldn't discuss what he really wanted to talk about and judging by the looks shared between them as they all sat down, Ron as oblivious as always, they knew that.

 

"So, Ron," Neville began awkwardly. "How was your summer?"

 

Ginny felt a pang of sympathy for Neville, but none more than for herself. She had to LIVE with her pea brain of a brother, who was under the firm belief that the sun shined out of Dumbledore's arse. She knew that wasn't the case, before Harry and Hermione. During her first year, she knew in her heart that Dumbledore didn't even bother to try and help her, it was left to Harry to do the work that he should've. Since that moment, she had lost all faith in The Headmaster. The only member of the family who still believed was Ron and to a certain extent, Mum. She hoped that Dad could talk some sense into her though.

 

She'd spent the entire summer hearing Ron brag about going with Harry to the Department of Mysteries to her, as though she wasn't there at all. She'd given into the temptation of a few Bat Bogey hexes aimed his way when her temper got the better of her.

 

So no, she didn't envy Neville at all.

 

As Ron prattled on about whatever it was he did, Harry couldn't care less, Hermione turned to him, thankful for the distraction Neville was providing.

 

"Harry." Hermione started. He knew what she was going to say already, her body was thrumming with excitement but he didn't spoil it for her, as he had a surprise of his own.

 

"I'm a Prefect!" She smiled happily. "Before this summer, I would have seen this as an opportunity to enforce the rules which the teachers set, but I understand now. This is a chance to make a real change, to set an example for the younger students, that we're not all out for ourselves and truly care."

 

Harry hadn't seen her speak so passionately about anything since her SPEW campaign. The house elves appreciated the sentiment, what they didn't appreciate was her force-feeding of it. But he knew this time, it would be different.

 

"Congratulations Hermione." Harry patted his friend on the shoulder. "I have something to tell you as well." Now here, he wanted a little bit of fun. He'd caught the attention of his other friends as Ron had stopped mid-conversation. Neville shook himself out of a daze, looking relieved as he'd hummed and ahhed absentmindedly while Ron didn't seem to shut up. That and he was curious what Harry had to say.

 

Luna had a strange little smile on her face as she watched her friends, while Ginny looked on expectantly.

 

"Close your eyes." Harry reclined into the seat, studying Hermione. She was about to protest and ask why, but a raised eyebrow from him halted her words. "Oh, alright." She shut her eyes and Harry nearly chuckled at her obvious need to know. From the breast pocket of his robes, he pulled out his Prefect and Quidditch Captain badge. He opened the closed fist on her lap, placing them inside and closing it once more.

 

"Open and look in your hand." He was enjoying this. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so carefree. Strange, since the world was in a worse state than when he'd started Hogwarts. 5th year was simply a disaster. His magic was blocked along with whatever else Dumbledore had done to him. And for lack of better words, he was an angsty shit, taking out his rage on everyone including himself, though there were a select few which deserved all his ire and more. Though now, he was wondering if it wasn't part of Dumbledore's vision of the golden boy, a natural part of him or a bit of both. Regardless things would change. They had changed and the first step in the right direction was showing appreciation to the true friends who had been with him for every wrong direction he'd taken.

 

Hermione did as asked and not for the first time that day, she was speechless. It took a few seconds but when she finally understood, she threw her arms around him.

 

"Oh, Harry! That's wonderful, we can go to the meetings together! There's one starting soon, as a brief of what to do on the train, what to do when we get to Hogwarts and oh it's going to be so much fun!"

 

He was startled when Hermione pulled him to his feet and began dancing a jig with him. Soon the compartment filled with the sounds of congratulations among laughter at Hermione's antics.

 

She'd definitely changed. Once over she'd have thought it immature, but she'd learned to relax and act her age a little more.

 

"Oh, my Harry is all grown up," she pinched his cheek lightly, pretending to wipe away a tear. "I'm so proud!"

 

He was about to respond to her, an affectionate smile on his face when he froze in his tracks.

 

"I'm a Prefect too."

 

All sound stopped. It was as if with those words, everything ceased to exist. Harry was sure his brain had flatulated.

 

"I'm sorry?" Harry turned towards the voice, to make sure his hearing wasn't faulty and his eyes weren't going to fail as well despite his contacts.

 

"I said," Ron puffed out his chest proudly. "I'm a Prefect too."

 

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said." Harry shook his head in a daze. What was Dumbledore thinking? Because there was no way on earth McGonagall would have ever chosen Ron. He was still surprised she'd chosen him, truth be told.

 

"Headmaster Dumbledore personally recommended me."

 

Well, that answered his question. On second thoughts, he knew exactly what Dumbledore was thinking. It was another way of keeping tabs on him, should Tonks fail. Anything discussed whether it was a suggestion for change or reform, would be reported back to Dumbledore. He was saddened it didn't go to Neville. While he sometimes lacked in confidence, responsibility like this would really help him come into himself. Not to mention the first years would love him. He couldn't see Ron coaching the younger ones on homework or offer advice when he barely did any work of his own. Granted Harry was like this in the past but he had a feeling that if he'd been sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore wouldn't have had such a profound impact. He'd be more studious, he might even have removed the blocks earlier.

 

Oh well, it wasn't too late for change.

 

Hermione looked at her friends for encouragement. Seeing that Harry was lost in thought, Neville confused, Ginny rolling her eyes in annoyance and Luna with an odd blank expression, she tried to say something positive.

 

"That's great Ron, really. Well done." She offered awkwardly, cringing at how false it sounded.

 

But apparently, Ron couldn't tell, as he grinned like he always did, slipping an arm around Hermione's waist which she had to fight against pulling away. "Thanks, Herm. Should we get going to this Prefect thingy?"

 

She hated that nickname and wanted dearly to punch Ronald. It was second only to the worst name she'd ever been given, the first being Herm-own-ninny. Really, she didn't know why she was so infatuated with someone who pronounced her name as though she were a deep sea creature.

 

Snapping out of his thoughts and seeing Hermione's annoyance, he overcame his own problem with Ron and slung an arm around his shoulder, causing him to release Hermione in the distraction which she gave a grateful nod.

 

"Let's go. We'll see you three later." Harry waved, locking the door behind them so no one else but them could enter once the meeting was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Ron. Whatever shall I do with him? xD


	39. Enemies No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a change, one that nearly finishes off Ron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's nearly always the titles I struggle with xD

_'Why did the meeting have to be at the other end of the train?'_   Harry thought to himself, frowning. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have minded, but the sooner they arrived at the meeting to hear the head boy and girl's speech, the sooner Ron would stop talking. He was doing the very same thing to Ron which he used to do to Hermione in the past when she was in 'lecture mode.' What little he could, unfortunately, hear back in their compartment, it was something which Ginny had heard several times before. Or he guessed so, judging by her glaring daggers at him.

 

He could see students from different houses entering one larger compartment, which looked to be magically expanded to fit everyone. Well, at least it was more than recognisable.

 

He beckoned them to follow him, cutting off their bickering which was no doubt about to turn into a fight.

 

The first thing that entered Harry's mind as he looked about his surroundings was cosy. The colours were rich earthy tones and no indication of house favouritism could be seen. Instead, there was the feeling of community, they were all students with shared responsibility and Harry liked that.

 

There were a few rich leather armchairs around, but he spotted some seats for them all to sit nearby. He was about to catch up with Hermione, Ron at his side, when an obnoxious and all too familiar drawl sounded from behind.

 

"Weasley? They let anyone in these days. Potter I can understand, the boy who lived status can grant only the best. But you? Who did you bribe and what with, the dump you live in isn't fit for animals to stay." He shared an obnoxious guffaw with Crabbe and Goyle, who laughed only for the sake of pleasing Malfoy. Harry did wonder if they were away from his influence, would they flourish? It was something to think on.

 

He turned around, meeting cold grey eyes which soon showed more expression that they would've liked. He gripped Ron's shoulder none too gently, as he could practically feel the red head's anger. This wasn't the time nor a place for family rivalry.

 

He smirked slightly at 2 pale spots of pink on the aristocrat's high cheekbones.

 

"Potter. It seems that at least, you are befitting of your house status and no longer look like a common street urchin." Malfoy looked at him appraisingly.

 

"Malfoy." There must have been something in Harry's tone, as the blonde boy gave him a sharp look.

 

It was then Harry made his decision.

 

Since the removal of Dumbledore's influence, he'd had the time to think through things, really think. The only reason he'd rejected Malfoy's hand in his first year, was the boy's superior attitude towards him and at the time, his insulting of Ron, the first friend he'd made his age. If he hadn't met Ron and was sorted into Slytherin, would Draco have been part of the golden trio? Would he still have the same friends he did if he were in Slytherin? All those questions and more had run through his mind but in the end, he knew one thing.

 

He wanted a truce with Malfoy.

 

He had too much to do, too much to live for, to spend the remainder of his Hogwarts years keeping up what was from the start, a petty rivalry. Not to mention that with Lucius as part of the Death Eaters, Voldemort was probably putting a lot of pressure on him to get Malfoy junior to join. He had no idea what would happen from there if Malfoy accepted his offer, but he hoped that at least he'd be left alone by the Slytherin.

 

He didn't even bother to think of Ron's reaction, he could stuff it. He was sick and tired of keeping this up and if they had to be in the same room together out of duty, he wanted to at least have a civil conversion if the time arose.

 

"Potter?" Malfoy's keen eyes noted that they'd gathered a small crowd, no doubt waiting for what their next fight would be.

 

"I want a truce with you," Harry stated simply. He may be partially Slytherin, but he wasn't into word games, dancing around the issue or cryptic bollocks like Dumbledore.

 

Draco prided himself on his calm, cool mask of indifference but Potter surprised him every time. "I'm sorry?" Thank goodness his father wasn't here to see his lack of decorum.

 

"I want a truce," he repeated, slightly nervous as he too had noticed the crowd, not to mention that Ron looked as though he were about to go into cardiac arrest. His nerves were not due to either of those though, more because he truly did want a fresh start with his school enemy.

 

"Why, what's in it for you?" Malfoy was suspicious, call it part of his Slytherin nature. There must be something Potter wanted from him.

 

"Nothing at all. As for why I have bigger problems," He swept his hair aside, gesturing to his scar. "As I suspect you do. I'm not asking we be best friends or anything like that, more like we can pass each other in the corridor without wanting to insult or toss spells around. I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone. What do you say?"

 

In a complete spin around to his first year, Harry was the one holding his hand out.

 

Grey eyes locked with green for a few seconds, trying to get a read on him. Potter was never good at hiding his emotions but it seemed as though he'd done more than just change his physical appearance. What did he have to lose? In truth, he had his own agenda and wasn't at all interested in continuing in his father's footsteps. A truce with Potter could be worse, all things considered. Plus, he was no fun to antagonise last year. Oh well, he still had Weasley who he noted with some dry amusement somehow managed to look pale and flushed simultaneously.

 

"Harry?" Ron squeaked, looking on in shock and abject horror.

 

"I accept." And with that, the 2 biggest rivals of Hogwarts shook hands.

 

Harry nodded his head slightly towards Malfoy, who returned the gesture. He walked away to his side of the room with Crabbe and Goyle while Harry headed in the direction of Hermione, leaving Ron rooted to the spot. They had a few more minutes yet, as the head girl and boy had yet to arrive.

 

Hermione greeted him with a smile of approval. "I'm glad you did that Harry, maybe he'll leave us all alone now."

 

"Harry mate what did you do that for? You shook hands with a filthy slimy snake! He probably cursed you!"

 

 _'And here we go.'_   Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, casually taking a seat beside Hermione as Ron stormed over, his skin as red as his hair. People were still watching, including Draco who was amused. In truth so was he.

 

"Look, Ron," Harry tried to calm him down, though it hadn't worked in the past. "You can defend my honour, you handle Malfoy so much better than me. Though I'm not fighting, it doesn't stop you from doing so. Go out there, show Hogwarts, be the proud Lion you know you can be." If Harry had to stroke Ron's ego for less complications, then he'd happily do so.

 

A few snickers sounded throughout the room, knowing full well that Ron couldn't handle Malfoy at all.

 

Ron puffed his chest out in pride, the redness in his face more of a dull pink now. "Well ok." Ron accepted, sitting on the other side of Hermione. "As long as you know what you're doing Harry."

 

"I do." And with that, Ron's anger had abated. Maybe he did know what to do to calm him down.

 

He could see a few angry glares in their general direction and he could understand why. Harry guessed it wouldn't be long before either he, Ron or Hermione are removed from Prefect duty at the slight sign of any slacking off, though he had no intentions of doing so and Hermione would be the last person on earth who didn't put her all into something. That or Dumbledore would get an earful from the heads of houses to add an extra student per house per year. McGonagalls' sense of fair play was strong and he knew enough about the others that they wouldn't stand for it either.

 

Well, Snape wouldn't like one extra Gryffindor prefect certainly. He could just picture his reaction when he first found out that he'd made Prefect. He'd have liked to have seen his face.

 

Harry fully anticipated for everything to kick off once he arrived at Hogwarts. Whether that would be gradually or all at once, he didn't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to ask for your opinion on Draco this time. Would you like to see an eventual friendship like with Severus, or keep things civil and work together only relating to school/an ally?


	40. Prefect Material

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only the first meeting and Ron had already made a bad impression. So much for Harry hoping they'd come out of the meeting intact. Not to mention a physical demonstration of why his supposed best mate shouldn't ever be in charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly forgot to post this :O Sunday was one of the hardest days I've had in my life so far so the days from then have seemed a bit blurred, but writing always helps me to focus :)

All in all, it wasn't a bad meeting. Not as interesting as Hermione put it, but promising. Peter Wickes of Hufflepuff and Charlotte Mayfair of Slytherin introduced themselves as the new Head Boy & Girl. He'd never heard of them but then again, he'd never gone outside of his social circle, another thing he would look into changing. It couldn't hurt to know who was going to be a problem, who wasn't and who would help him solve those problems.

 

To his surprise, before they all got down to business, they had asked each Prefect to give an introduction and tell a little about themselves. He knew a lot of people were expecting him to blow his own trumpet and mentioned his boy who lived status, but all he'd said was his name and that DADA was his favourite subject in school.

 

Everything went fine, until Ron. It had only been about an hour since that moment but Harry was almost tempted to weep. Either weep or accidentally tell Ron that the Chudley Canons were practising Quidditch around the Whomping Willow.

 

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley. I'm THE Harry Potter's best mate!"

 

He wasn't doing himself any favours if the looks shot the red-headed boy's way were any indication. While Harry had stayed away from his 'fame', Ron had blown both his and Harry's trumpets. Hermione had looked at him with such a hopeless expression, she looked as clueless about what to do as he felt.

 

Charlotte saved the awkward silence by gesturing to the next person before it got ugly.

 

"Was he always like this?" Harry muttered to himself quietly, keeping pace with Hermione while Ron was out in front.

 

"Yes, though not as much as now. I think The Headmaster has said something to him." Hermione spoke softly, though the chances of Ron hearing were unlikely.

 

He was thinking out loud, but he appreciated the response nonetheless.

 

"We'll speak more on this later." He gave her a significant look, jerking his head in the direction of Ron and she nodded silently.

 

"Excuse me, are you Harry Potter?"

 

He came to a stop, Hermione a few seconds after him, as he searched for the source of a noise.

 

A girl stood before him, a first year since there was no house crest on her robes.

 

"I am." He spoke gently, so different from how he'd have reacted before. Last year he would've lashed out, triggered by awestruck or even curious tones but this time, he could only smile sadly as she held the light of innocence in her eyes which he'd never seen reflected in his own.

 

She had long wavy light blonde hair, lighter than Luna to the point of it being white, and pale green eyes. She cocked her head, much like Fang did and Harry never failed to find it adorable.

 

"What's it like, being famous? It sounds scary." She nodded to herself as if in affirmation, but jumped when another voice called out.

 

"Oi, piss off kid, we're Prefects! We haven't got time for you little pipsqueaks, we've got work to do!" Ron shouldered his way through, towering over the girl who's eyes went wide.

 

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT!" For a moment Harry thought Mrs Weasley had hitched a ride on the train, until Hermione, a deep frown creasing her eyebrows, hair a little frizzier and brown eyes filled with rage dragged Ron by the arm to their compartment, berating him all the way and ignoring his protests.

 

"But Hermione-"

 

"No buts, Ronald! You wait until I tell your mother about this!"

 

Harry nearly chuckled at Ron's whimper, silently cheering on Hermione and watching as the pair faded in the distance.

 

The girl giggled a bit nervously, suddenly reminding him that he still had an audience. He crouched to her level so she felt more at ease.

 

"In answer to your question before I was so rudely interrupted," here he rolled his eyes dramatically and got a genuine laugh out of her, "It is scary. There's a lot that people expect you to be, to live up to. But the truth is, you should only live for yourself. Don't live by people's expectations or you will lose sight of who you really are."

 

She looked at him with a new found respect. "I can understand that. You're a lot nicer than I thought you'd be!" She blurted out, then looked sheepish.

 

He chuckled slightly in response. "Well, I try to be. So, what's your name?"

 

"Lilah Caltir." Her relaxed shoulders tensed slightly. "I'm so nervous to start here, I can't find anywhere to sit, everywhere was either full or they kicked me out."

 

He stood back up, patting her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll find you a compartment. Do you have your trunk with you?"

 

She gestured to her side, where she had a trunk and a shoulder bag. He cast a featherlight charm on both, tuning in slightly to the magic on the train since it was much more concentrated than when he'd tried back at the manor. He nearly had a sensory overload but managed to adjust.

 

Eventually, he came to a compartment with one other person in, a boy who looked her age. He slid open the door.

 

"Excuse me," The boy looked up, eyes popping out of his head as he looked where Harry's scar was, peeking slightly through a gap in his fringe. "Can Miss Caltir share this compartment with you?"

 

The boy silently nodded his head, lost for words.

 

"Just Lilah is fine." She piped up, watching as Harry placed her bag on the seat and her trunk on the rack above.

 

"Lilah it is then." A warm feeling encased his heart. This was what it was like to help someone who needed it, not rushing off on half-baked plans subtly cooked by a mad old bastard in some desperate attempt to both test him and save the school. This was genuine.

 

"Thank you, Mr Potter." She hugged him around the waist as he silently cursed himself, feeling his cheeks flaming as he patted her back a bit awkwardly.

 

"Just Harry is fine." He parroted her words back as they shared a small smile.

 

"Have a nice rest of the ride here, I wish you luck whatever house you're in." He said kindly to the pair, watching as Lilah settled herself onto the seat across from the boy.

 

He gave her a small wave, almost tempted to skip back to his own compartment. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Lilah? I'm not sure what role she will have at the moment other than some interactions here and there but I have a few ideas xD And Ron! Well not much to say really, he's a prick :P


	41. Those Sunset Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron continues to make a bad impression while Harry is in for more surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answrs, if you're still reading this as your comment was many chapters back, I haven't forgotten your Thestrals suggestion and Harry will be interacting with them in the future :)

Sliding the compartment door open with a flick of his wand, Harry had to use all his self-control to not burst out into laughter at a red-faced Ron sulking in the corner, trying and failing to make himself invisible. He retook his seat near Hermione.

 

"What happened?" He gestured to the redhead beside him, who seemed to be ignoring everyone.

 

"Well," She flushed. "You heard most of what I said. I also," She coughed a little, almost sheepishly. "I also sent a Patronus to Mrs Weasley."

 

Harry's eyes went wide. Oh, she wouldn't let this slide. The Great Hall would have more in store than the sorting tonight, he was certain. He raised an eyebrow, smirking at her slightly. "I see that not all of the Hermione I knew before this summer has gone."

 

She gave him a smirk in return. "Not when it comes to Ronald, anyway. He needs a kick up the arse," she muttered.

 

Neville heard and promptly snorted, turning it into a cough when Ron looked at him curiously. Ginny looked at Harry, mouthing the words, _'Bat-Bogey Hex.'_

 

He nearly lost it just then but pressed his lips together so he wouldn't laugh. Thankfully, Luna provided him with a distraction.

 

"Harry," She cocked her head in that curious manner of hers. "Will Dumbledore's Archenemies start this year?"

 

He frowned, confused. "Dumbledore's Archenemies?"

 

She gave him a knowing look. "Will you be starting the DA?"

 

Then he suddenly understood. Luna, the intelligent free spirit that she was, knew he was on the outs with Dumbledore. He rather liked the sound of Dumbledore's Archenemies.

 

He smiled in return to her own, indicating that he understood, placing Muffliato on Ron so he couldn't hear as clearly. "I will. We won't have to hide what we're doing now. The Headmaster won't disband a group that's in his name."

 

There were murmurs of agreement across the compartment except for Ron, who was still sulking.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the train ride to Hogwarts was relatively uneventful and unfortunately, Ron got out of his funk and resumed talking about himself. He noted with some concern that Ginny's face was slowly turning red. He hoped they'd arrive soon if only to prevent a sibling fight of great proportion.

 

Just when he was about to consider putting up some magic absorption spells, the train came to a stop as he heard the gruff shouts of, "Firs' years, firs' years follow me!"

 

Relieved that it didn't escalate, he waved to the little first year Lilah as she gave one back, looking a little intimidated by Hagrid's size. He smiled a little as Hagrid must have lightened the mood, as all the 1st year's tension seemed to have lessened from a few seconds previously.

 

It was raining, so there were huddles of younger students without protection from the Scottish weather. He cast a couple of water repelling charms here and there to help them out, receiving looks of gratitude in return.

 

The group of five plus one made idle conversation, as they chose a carriage to ride in. Harry was about to join his friends until something made him stop and stare.

 

A smaller presence appeared beside him until he looked down into the wide blue eyes of Luna.

 

"You can see them, how they truly are, can't you?" A smile danced about her lips, as she went to pet the nearest one on the nose.

 

At first glance, Harry thought the Thestrals looked like regular horses, but as he approached the second one pulling the carriage, he realised that this was furthest from the truth.

 

Their coats were black, blending into the darkening sky, but it was the kind of black where if you looked for too long, there was a subconscious fear you'd never escape it. To Harry, it looked rather peaceful. Their hooves produced gentle grey mist, settling around them in a thin sheen, almost like a blanket. As a stark contrast, their eyes were pure white, with no iris. They looked sightless, but both turned their head towards Harry in curiosity, who had to look up in response, as they'd grown in height as well as appearance.

 

He couldn't tell if their wings had changed. He didn't even know why they'd changed to him.

 

An icy nose nudged him, a long pink tongue swiping a trail from his cheek to ear. Harry heard Luna giggle from beside him, as he raised a hand to pat the nose so near his own.

 

"Why are they different to how I saw them before?" He asked, never failing to be amazed by the magical world.

 

"Your views on death have changed, Harry. Before, death was horrible. A cruel, and unnecessary end, something which robbed you of any form of family and stability. But now, you see it differently. Something has happened to you, to change your mind. Like it did to me." She spoke airily, pulling some red meat from her bag, feeding the Thestral nearest her. "She likes you."

 

Looking into the Thestral's eyes, he was overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity, of peace. Thoughts and images not of his own slipped by his shields, gently showering him. His first reaction was to defend himself but he stopped as his animagi instincts kicked in. The familiarity was from Thanatos. He stopped and let the images transfer, feeling dizzy for a moment.

 

He'd have to properly process what he just saw later, as they would be late for the feast if they didn't hurry. He acknowledged the animal before him with a respectful bow, giving her an extra pat on the nose in farewell.

 

He linked arms with Luna, helping her onto the carriage as he sat between Ron and Hermione.

 

"What took you so long mate?" Ron asked, mouth half full with a pumpkin pasty.

 

"Someone put a curse on me. I couldn't climb into the carriage and I feared I'd have to walk to the castle of all things," He spoke in a serious tone, Ron becoming slack-jawed with half eaten food in his mouth until a hand from Harry's other side reached over and closed it with an audible clack. "But Luna saved me."

 

"The curse has left you." She confirmed, looking at him in a way which suggested that there was more to her words than she was letting on.

 

While Hermione, Neville and Ginny could see through Harry's bullshit, Ron apparently couldn't, as he just grunted in acceptance, shooting a look of annoyance at Hermione before resuming eating.

 

He relaxed, letting the conversation of his friends fill the air, enjoying the view up to the castle which he'd never truly appreciated until now. He vowed to explore the castle more than he had, as he wasn't the son, godson and honorary son of Marauders for nothing.

 

It wasn't long before they arrived, Neville helping Luna down while Harry helped both Hermione and Ginny, frowning at Ron's lack of manners. He was still unsure whether the summer had changed Ron or he was always like this and blind to it.

 

At one point, the crowd of students parted like the sea for the group, as many were ogling Harry's new look, until they walked through the open entrance to the castle, greeted by Professor McGonagall.

 

"Good evening Miss Granger, Lovegood, Weasley. Mr Longbottom, Weasley, Pott-"

 

She stopped for a moment and squinted at him, perching her glasses on the very tip of her nose. "Mr Potter." She finished a small smile on her face. "An interesting look. A new fashion trend?" She looked closer at his piercings, nodding at him in approval. "I see. A wise choice of spells and as the last of your line, sensible to have." She continued after a moment's pause. "After the sorting Miss Granger and Mr Weasley will assist you with the first years." She informed him, pursing her lips in disapproval at the freckled boy. "You are a student at Hogwarts Mr Weasley, not a member of a rabble. Tuck your shirt in." They were ushered into the hall, finding seats the closest to the head table, Ron hastily tucking his shirt in.

 

He immediately felt many pairs of eyes on him, but there was one particular pair which caught his eye and he did a double take.

 

There, sat in the Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor's seat, was Alistair Lothaire.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left one or two hints and to me it's obvious but I'm not the reader of course, so I don't know how it comes across when you don't know the plot. How many of you were expecting to see Alistair as the DADA teacher and what do you think of it? :) Also, thoughts on the Thestrals? I wanted to try something different.


	42. Their Worlds Are Shifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore gives his usual speech with some added information, Harry and Alistair are having trouble avoiding eye contact and it looks like Ron is up in the Forbidden Forest without a Ford Anglia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Chapter Title inspiration wasn't a thing :P

It seemed as if everything else faded around them. Other people, any sounds, blurred into the background. Alistair stared directly at Harry, giving a sly wink and he cursed at his rising blush, returning a weak smile and tuning back into the conversation around him.

 

"Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned. "You're flushed." She placed a hand against his forehead.

.

"I'm fine!" He embarrassingly enough squeaked, so he cleared his throat. "I'm fine," he repeated, reassuring her.

 

She looked at him sceptically but must have believed him, as she returned to reading Hogwarts: A History.

 

He watched the sorting, only half interested until the young girl he met on the train was seated on the stool.

 

He couldn't help but smile when the hat cried out, "Gryffindor!". Lilah walked by Harry's side, waving and hesitantly held her hand out, grinning in delight when he accepted her request for a high-five.

 

"Congratulations!" He couldn't help but grin back, he was growing fond of her.

 

"Thanks! See you later Harry, Dominic is waving at me." And with that, she rushed off in the usual energetic 11-year-old way.

 

He didn't notice that the boy she sat with was placed in Gryffindor too, he was glad she had at least one friend. Despite how Ron turned out, it would have been difficult for him having no friends at that point in time particularly.

 

The usual ringing sound of cutlery on goblet broke his current train of thought.

 

All eyes turned towards Dumbledore. Some with eagerness, others uncaring and a few filled with hatred. While he did make eye contact with the students in the room, he never cared to really look, truly see what was before him. He was in a world where everything was as it once was and nothing had changed when in reality, everything had. One such look of hatred was held in the eyes of Harry, but the specially crafted mask was in place and all that could be seen unless someone chose to look for it, was nothing short of awe and adoration.

 

The robed wizard rose to his feet. "Good evening everyone, I would like to welcome you all back to another year of Hogwarts." The twinkling eyes brightened and what seemed like a genuine smile bloomed on his aged face. "It is nice to see some new faces among those who have been with us for quite some time." Harry could have blinked and missed his change in demeanour. Gone was the eccentric slightly dotty old man which he used for his own benefit and there appeared a powerful and serious Wizard. To most, it would just seem as though he were being serious for the moment but to Harry, he knew that the mask people thought were this, was actually the persona the students always saw. "There is something which I want to share with you, that the Ministry is unwilling to. While they wish to protect the younger among you, I believe it is best to be prepared, to know what you're up against."

 

He waited patiently for the murmuring and whispers to die down, failing to notice that while Harry was watching him intently, his new DADA teacher was practically boring holes into the back of his head.

 

Internally, Alistair was cursing in a way which wasn't his usual elegance. He was confident that he was seeing all that he could see in Dumbledore's mind, however, there was nothing relating to the location of his brother. Clearly, he'd learned something in the short life he'd led. While he was here to find out more information about what the Headmaster knew of his kind and kin, he was also here to protect and support Harry, for more than just his personal feelings. He was very much attracted to him. However, he considered himself a gentleman and would never force him into something which would cause undue distress. He would never read Harry's mind without his permission, he wanted the thrill of finding things out about the man with beautiful eyes himself, Legilimency seemed like cheating, in a strange way.

 

They had one or two things in common, the main being their mutual dislike of Dumbledore. What else they may or may not have in common, he was looking forward to finding out throughout the year. While some of his mind was taking in the speech, most were analysing what he'd do for the school year, all the while occasionally glancing at Harry.

 

Harry meanwhile, was having similar thoughts of what he'd do this school year. He wasn't even pretending to listen, he knew instinctively what Dumbledore was going to say but if need be, he could watch his memory of the event back or ask Hermione for the details. Right now, he was more occupied in locking eyes with Dumbledore in some vain attempt to not keep catching Alistair's. It made his thoughts whirl chaotically, not to mention his stomach flutter. What he'd once felt for Cho seemed to pale in comparison to how he was now, the feeling nearly overtook him in its intensity. With renewed determination, he instead casually went over the many ways Albus Dumbledore could meet an unfortunate demise.

 

It took several seconds, but Dumbledore was soon satisfied as the students settled down some. "As some of you with family in the Ministry may know, there are rumours that Voldemort has returned. " He ignored the wave of flinches and a couple of screams, continuing. "This is true. He was brought to life by an ancient and dark ritual the night Cedric Diggory was murdered at the hand of Peter Pettigrew."

 

No amount of waiting patiently could get the students to quiet down now, many protesting in disbelief, a lot over the mentioning of Peter Pettigrew as it was public knowledge that he was killed by the Dark Lord's right-hand man, Sirius Black.

 

"What's he playing at?" One student cried. "Does he expect us to believe him without solid proof? The old coot has lost his nut!"

 

There were similar protests and it took a few flash bangs from McGonagall before the noise in the room quietened.

 

Harry personally agreed with the student. While he did understand that keeping people aware was important, he could've delivered it in a better way, especially since there were most likely Muggleborn first years or even first years of any blood status who aren't aware of who Voldemort is, due to parents wanting to shield their children from the worst. He could see many confused faces among the younger ones, though there were a few which held the light of fear and recognition. His eyes trailed further down the table to land on Lilah. Unlike the majority, there was a grave and understanding expression on hers, tinged with determination. It was something which no 11 year old should have, something which he shouldn't have had. It seemed his earlier assumption of her complete innocence wasn't entirely accurate. He could tell there was a story there, but that was to be shared by her if she chose to.

 

Harry watched on as Dumbledore let McGonagall keep crowd control, introducing Alistair who flashed a smile across the room, melting a few student's hearts. He finished off his speech with a rather Moody-like addition of _'Constant Vigilance.'_   And at last for many students, food and drink appeared on the tables, filling the air with a delicious aroma.

 

He watched blankly as Ron practically swallowed an entire chicken leg, Neville watching him in morbid fascination and to his amusement, Ginny eyeing Ron and tapping her wand against a palm dangerously. Then, a loud hoot and flapping of wings caught his eye.

 

He closed in eyes in preparation for what was about to happen and sure enough, Errol landed with a crash, knocking over a large bowl of peas and a gravy boat, coating the poor owl in it. Harry cast a quick scourgify, about to relieve the owl of its burden since it landed closer to him, until the smoky, blood red envelope caught his eye.

 

He backed off hastily, almost tempted to conjure a crash helmet as the howler ripped itself from the owl's claws, coming to float directly in front of Ron.

 

He was in the middle of devouring another chicken leg when he noticed it. His eyes opened wide in horror, but his mouth clamped around the chicken leg he was in the process of chewing fiercely as he gave a loud moan around it. This caught most of the Gryffindor's attention and with time, the entire hall grew silent.

 

As the howler opened its mouth, Ron slipped beneath the table in some valiant attempt to hide. But as some students knew, there was no hiding from Mrs Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cue John Paul Young's Love Is In The Air* I swear I won't leave it ridiculously long before there's some action! Also, I can't remember if I ever asked this before but I will now. Whatever happens with this romance, I won't put too much sexual stuff into it as I realise there will be people here for the story and not so much the romance and even when it does happen, I'll put in some kind of warning and flesh out the chapter xD I'm planning for the future however, sexy time won't happen until he is 17? Undecided on that but I figured waiting until he was of age and able to take full control over everything would be sensible in case Dumbledore tries to do something. In addition, whenever it is confirmed, would any of you like to see a fic solely centred around Alistair and Harry's relationship? With all the *Cough* juicy bits once the main story has got to that point? :)


	43. The Matriarch, The Snake & The Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Weasley expresses her displeasure with Ron, who doesn't take it too well. Not just the Prefects but the entire school, are treated to the spectacle which is Ronald Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pleased I managed this since it's coming to the end of my course and it's like one mad rush towards the end O.O I struggled with the summary this time rather than the title, if it's not one it's the other.

If it was by some strange twist of humor or the elves could read students minds Harry didn't know, but he found himself staring at a large bowl of popcorn, the tables suddenly dotted with the new snack. He pulled the bowl closer, taking a few pieces. He'd rarely ever had popcorn and now was the time to indulge. Many other students must have had the same thought, as the light crunch of popcorn echoed in the otherwise silent hall.

 

Albus Dumbledore watched on expectantly. He kept tabs on Ron at all times, he didn't trust the boy though he was ridiculously easy to manipulate. He knew it wouldn't be long before Miss Granger took it upon herself to be the authority figure. Really, the irritating little chit would be better off elsewhere, if he didn't need her to sweeten the pot for Ronald, that is.

 

His attitude was a carbon copy of James Potter when he was in school, though he eventually grew out of his behaviour. He hoped Molly could subdue the little cretin. While he was willing to let things slide, there were some things which he couldn't without his colleagues or the board taking notice, not to mention the students with parents in the ministry. So he did nothing, except mull over the plans in his head and what he'd do with Harry.

 

Alistair watched also, quietly curious. He knew of howlers, of course, but had never been in the company of someone who'd received one or sent one himself. He wasn't one for shouting in general but if he ever did need to express his ire, a regular letter or a personal visit to demonstrate his displeasure always sufficed. He didn't know this red-headed boy, but there was something about him which he instantly disliked. In all his years of living, he had an incredible amount of tolerance and patience and respected the diversity of the world he inhabited, but yet he couldn't get over the incredibly human-like feeling of instant dislike. However, he wouldn't let his thoughts cloud the actions he'd take. Unless Ronald, as he'd for a split second entered his mind to find out his name, proved otherwise. But even then, he refused to abuse his position as in truth, he'd always wanted to try teaching students, but it was never something he'd actively tried, not counting all that he'd taught his brother. If Ronald targeted Harry with malicious intent, however...

 

He stopped his train of thought before anything could happen. He could feel his irises change from the chocolate brown he'd disguised them as to a deep blood red but thankfully, he had a great enough control for no one to notice his sudden change. If he didn't know that it was physically impossible, he could almost swear his heart beat faster at the thought of Harry in pain. He closed his eyes, organising and sealing away outer thoughts so he could watch what was bound to be an interesting moment.

 

The howler was smoking to the point where Harry was concerned it would set alight rather than convey its message. He had both of his wands handy if that should be the case.

 

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

 

The school collectively jumped, as they weren't quite prepared for the volume. 5th, 6th and 7th year were feeling a sense of Deja Vu, as they remembered one such howler sent to Ron in his 2nd year.

 

"HOW DARE YOU TREAT A 1ST YEAR LIKE THAT, I AM SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU! YOUR FATHER AND I WERE SO PROUD WHEN YOU SHOWED US YOUR PREFECT BADGE AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO? YOUNG MAN, IF YOU SO MUCH AS DARE DISRESPECT A STUDENT AND RUIN THEIR FIRST TIME AT HOGWARTS AGAIN, I WILL PERSONALLY COME TO HOGWARTS AND DEAL WITH YOU MYSELF!" She practically screeched at the end, a few students wincing which turned to snorts as a wooden spoon struck Ron over the head, hard. The Howler ignored his shout of pain and turned to someone else.

 

"Oh and Hermione dear," Her tone became different as night and day, "Keep Ronald in line for me while I can't. You too Ginny. If I can't rely on my own son to conduct himself in an appropriate manner, I can always count on you two." The howler exploded instead of ripping into shreds, bits of red paper showering the pale red-headed boy. Harry could only see the top of his head and eyes, but he looked ready to pass out. Harry was trying dearly not to laugh but lost the battle as a random student burst into giggles, it wasn't long before the entire school followed suit, save for most of the staff and the Slytherins, though Harry could've sworn Malfoy was stifling a chuckle of his own.

 

Dumbledore was slightly amused, deep down. But he had a reputation to uphold. Severus did as well, but the smirk on his face was highly visible. The only ones who had lost their composure were Filius, who had fallen off his seat, Hagrid with his deep belly laughs and the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, Alistair. His tinkling laugh could be easily heard. If he looked closer at Minerva, he'd see that her lips were not pursed in disapproval, but so as not to laugh herself. Weasley needed taking down a peg or two, in her opinion. She watched as Severus rose from his seat, striding in the direction of the boy.

 

In the face of his humiliation, Ron once again acted before he thought. He slammed his fists down so hard on the table after standing up, that it upset still hot food and if not for some hasty spells cast by Hermione and Harry, would've caused a mess, not to mention burns if any made contact with skin.

 

"SHUT UP!" He finally yelled, his face brighter than his hair at this point. It did nothing, however, but renew the laugh of the students. Staff had calmed down and were prepared for damage control. Harry wasn't even half tempted to warn Ron that Snape was rapidly approaching him. Ron was about to storm off, in a foul mood until a voice stopped him in his tracks.

 

"Mr Weasley, return to your seat at once. This is deplorable behaviour for a Gryffindor Prefect."

 

His brain didn't connect with his mouth, as he didn't realise just who was speaking to him.

 

"Why don't you fuck off? And you can shove those words up your arse!" He snapped, spinning around. The change was instant. Ron was looking at the sight before him as though it were an Acromantula rather than a human.

 

That stopped the student's laughter.

 

"Mr Weasley."

 

He caressed the letters of each word with his tongue before he chose to let the less eloquent hear them, or at least that's what Harry thought. He watched on, the silence even more profound after much noise.

 

"How dare you speak to me this way!" He hissed, very much matching the house logo he belonged to as students and staff alike had to strain their ears to hear his almost whispered words. He drew closer to Ron who while tall, seemed to shrink in the face of such dark fury. "One would think you'd possess a modicum of sense in that head of yours but apparently, your older siblings inherited intelligence while you were left with the dregs. 50 points from Gryffindor and Detention with me for the rest of the year, starting tonight!"

 

Harry was almost tempted to clap but stopped himself. He'd settle for cheering internally. For once, he was on Snape's side. He had to speak with the man, as much as he loathed the idea. A lot had changed, however, so perhaps like with Malfoy, they can come to some sort of arrangement.

 

Snape put a none too gentle hand on Ron's back, giving a little shove to get him to leave the hall. He was confident that his Prefects could handle seeing to the new flood of first years, however as always, he would be present to speak with his house. He'd have a house elf oversee the little idiot's slicing and dicing of various disgusting ingredients. Really, the feasts were the one guaranteed time he could relax. Sometimes, he loathed his job.

 

* * *

 

 

"Albus, surely you're not thinking of keeping Mr Weasley in a position of authority? It's not even his first night and already he's set a disgusting example, the rest of the prefects won't stand for it!" Minerva protested, her sense of fair play stronger than ever.

 

"Now now Minerva, the boy is nervous, that's all. I'm sure that once he's settled back into Hogwarts he'll be a shining example among the students." he tried placating her, so used to lies that in a sense they seemed true.

 

"Dinnae now-now me Albus!" She pursed her lips, very much in disapproval this time. "That boy is insufferable 'n' gives mah hoose a ill reputation. A dinnae know what's happened fur him tae change this wey, but if he doesn't stairt acting lik' a students o' Hogwarts shuid, he'll be answering tae me!"

 

Albus knew when to retreat, so to speak. When her Scottish brogue became thicker and slightly difficult to understand, that was when she was truly furious.

 

He respected her and the loyalty she had, he really did, but she was beginning to obstruct his path. She couldn't see the greater good like he did. Anyone who interrupted his plans, be it friend or foe, he wouldn't hesitate to strike them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my hand at the Scottish accent xD no worries, I'll only bring it in when she's pissed off, unless people aren't keen on it in which case that's fine too :) I may have enjoyed making Ron suffer a little too much. I like him in canon but for me, I keep an open mind with fanfiction because you can turn anyone into an arsehole.


	44. Deceiving Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Singing and a conversation with Hogwarts' new DADA Professor. Then, Harry tries out his role as Prefect along with Hermione, imparting wisdom along the way. That and something he expected, but not so suddenly.

More was happening this year than what Harry had anticipated. It was the first day back at Hogwarts and as his life had proven so far, it was never going to be a normal year. Even his most normal year, he was sure that a mass murderer was after him and he'd nearly been injured by a werewolf. In most people's lives, that was by no means normal.

 

The sound of Dumbledore clearing his throat along with food and cutlery going back to the kitchens caught Harry's attention, so along with the rest of the school, they looked to the headmaster, who seemed to have something to say.

 

"Since I started the evening on a sombre note, let us end on a high note. The School Song!"

 

A collective groan made its way across the hall, much like a verbal Mexican wave. Harry saw no point in a song which had no set tune to sing to, but he couldn't help but smile as Alistair crept into the back of his thoughts.

 

As the words flew into the air, Harry dutifully sung along, exchanging the words of I'm Too Sexy by Right Said Fred for the lyrics of their school song.

 

All in all, it was an utter auditory nightmare and he was startled slightly, momentarily forgetting about his bracelet and what purpose it served.

 

_"Good evening Harry, I hope you are well. I thought I would make a polite stop into your mind and inquire about something."_

 

His heart fluttered slightly, amazed he managed to still keep singing. _"Evening Alistair, or should I call you Professor? I'm as well as can be. What is it you'd like to know?"_   Speaking within your mind was different to out aloud, as he had to think of a question mark rather than his tone of voice indicating it was one.

 

 _"Ah, Professor everywhere but in private. I was never one for formalities. Have I been isolated in my home for so long that music is now a foreign concept to me, what is this? Music in my time was a beautiful melody, a remedy for ill emotions! This is positively ear bleeding."_   A pained note entered his voice.

 

It was, rather. Most likely worse for Alistair, as he had more sensitive hearing than Harry. Not to mention he wasn't used to the Hogwarts way of life. He laughed out loud, but it went unnoticed among the noise everyone was making. _"I promise, not all music is like this. It's just that the Headmaster is trying to slowly kill us via song."_

 

Alistair laughed this time, a melodic sound he'd heard before. He didn't realise how much he'd missed it. _"Now that I can certainly understand. You have my class tomorrow. May I request that you stay behind at the end? I wish to discuss something with you."_

 

 _"Of course,"_   Harry wondered what he wanted, though it could be the whole fact that he was here, to begin with. _"I'll talk with you later Professor, welcome to Hogwarts."_

 

No verbal response was given, but he had the curious feeling of a soft sensation on his forehead, almost like a kiss. It couldn't be.

 

The possibility of this made him touch his forehead in a bewildered fashion. Whatever it was, it felt comforting. So far through he'd stopped singing, he wasn't sure when, but the song ended.

 

After a scattered round of applause then came the few minutes where students were organised to be led to their new common rooms, or return there once more.

 

"After we've guided the first years to our common room, do you want to go to the room of requirement so we can all talk?" Harry muttered to Hermione, standing up.

 

"Well," She hesitated slightly. "As much as I'm dying to find out everything," Harry chuckled, he could well believe that. "We have to be up early tomorrow and we should get some sleep." She looked apologetic.

 

"No need to worry." He smiled reassuringly. "The room answers our demands, if we simply ask for a room with a different passage of time, we'll be able to discuss things freely, not to mention this is the perfect opportunity while Ron isn't here."

 

"Of course!" She slapped her forehead. "I should start calling you Hermione." She joked. "Are you two available?" 

 

Neville and Ginny both nodded.

  
"I want to find out when Harry became such a lady killer," Ginny spoke seriously. "Even McGonagall gave you the once over." She waggled her eyebrows, snickering as Harry blushed.

 

"While Professor McGonagall is a proper and proud woman, She wouldn't be interested in me." His mind went blank as he realised how that sounded.

 

"Not that I want her to be!" he added hastily, wanting to do a Ron and practically hide under the table as Ginny descended into giggles. Neville patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "There is a joke I could make, but I will save you the embarrassment."

 

He glanced over thankfully, regaining composure. "What about Luna?"

 

"There's probably no need to ask. Luna has a tendency of guessing what's going on even before she's told. She either has brilliant intuition, or she's a seer." This came from Hermione, which Harry was slightly surprised about. There was nothing scathing about her tone when talking about the blonde haired girl, not even when she mentioned the possibility of her being a seer. Harry knew Hermione wasn't overly fond of Luna because she disregarded what she counted as actual fact and brought in make-believe creatures to substitute, but it seemed as though her attitude took a 180-degree turn.

  
As if she sensed what Harry was thinking, Hermione explained. "I had a lot of time to think over the summer. I did think and I re-evaluated everything that I've ever come to know. I am Hermione +1."

 

"I look forward to seeing what else Hermione +1 has in store this year." He told her mock seriously, waving farewell at Neville and Ginny, focusing on the task at hand.

 

"1st year Gryffindors to us!" Harry called out, watching as the students thinned out and the shortest of the lot were gathered in front of them both. He caught Lilah's eye and flashed a smile as she gave him a thumbs up.

 

He looked to Hermione, giving a hand gesture of 'Go ahead.'

 

"If you'll follow us, we will show you where you'll be staying for the duration of your schooling here." She explained clearly, matching her pace with Harry as they both took their time walking, each answering questions from the 1st years about their surroundings.

 

After speaking the password, Harry turned to his temporary charges. "Make sure you remember this. You are allowed to write it down, however, be sure not to misplace it." He knew Neville would've appreciated that particular warning.

 

"Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable," Harry spoke cheerfully, Hermione and he choosing armchairs across from the students. Some chose to sit on the floor, others on furniture. Lilah sat on the floor next to the friend she'd made and he was slightly ashamed that he'd forgotten his name. It wouldn't be an issue as he planned to make himself available to all students, so he'd come to learn their names in time.

 

"Hello and welcome to Hogwarts!" Harry exclaimed, his dramatic arm movements accompanied with his talking receiving a few nervous laughs. "I sincerely hope you all enjoy your time here. I'm Harry Potter," A few gasps here and there but he barely blinked. "And I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione took over. "We are one of the few Gryffindor prefects this year. Any questions that you have now or during your school year, don't hesitate to ask us and we will help you to the best of our abilities."

 

Harry nodded in agreement, continuing. "So, the basics. We or other prefects will be available to take you to your lessons and the Great Hall until you're able to find it on your own. I know the castle is huge but don't worry, you'll find your way in no time." His easy-going smile relaxed some of the students. "Curfew is 10 pm for the younger years, midnight for the upper years. If you leave your common room after 7 pm and you don't have a valid reason why you will lose house points or receive detention for a repeat offence." He stopped for a moment, letting the information shared sink in as Hermione picked up where he left off. "House points are awarded or taken away depending on your behaviour. The hourglasses in the hall are used to measure the amount of points in total. At the end of the year, whoever receives the most points wins the house cup."

 

There were a few excited mutterings among the students and here, Harry sensed the perfect opportunity to help shape the minds of students who weren't used to the Hogwarts way of life.

 

"I'm going to tell you all something very important." He spoke slowly and seriously, making eye contact with each student as he did. "And I want you to remember this throughout your time here, long after I leave Hogwarts."

 

He waited until all eager and some wary eyes were upon him.

 

"If fellow students or even staff try to tell you that one house is inferior to another or bad in some way, don't listen to them. Not all Slytherins are evil, there are Gryffindors who think before rushing into a situation, Ravenclaws are not just book smart and Hufflepuffs are not the house of leftovers. Each house has their good and bad points, yet they don't define who you are. If not for circumstances ending up as they were, I myself could've ended up in Slytherin, as I'm sure some of you in this room were considered for another house too. The point that I'm trying to make here is don't let narrow-minded views of others ruin what friendships you can make. Reach out to others, work together, start study groups and just help out. We are stronger united than we ever are alone." He finished.

 

Most were absorbing everything he'd said as seriously as pre-teens could. There were one or two giving him sceptical looks, perhaps those born to a specific house only line or parents which were prejudiced. He saw an admiring look aimed his way from Lilah and he let the 1st years talk among themselves for a short while.

 

"Brilliant Harry," Hermione beamed from beside him. "I couldn't have put it better myself. They have a much better advantage than we did at their age after hearing that." After a moment, she spoke again. "We'd better end this here, they're probably exhausted."

 

He nodded in agreement and after a few seconds, it was quiet once more, thanks to Hermione. "That's all for tonight and remember, if you have any questions, you are more than welcome to approach Harry and me."

 

There were murmurs of agreement as the 1st years not dead on their feet wished them goodnight. Lilah waved at both of them, following her roommates upstairs.

 

"Shall we be going then?" Neville spoke up, startling Harry, as Ginny stood beside him. He hadn't realised they were there.

 

"Good work you two," She clapped them both on the shoulder. "If only all the Prefects were like you."

 

"We just did our job," Harry said rather bashfully, still unused to praise.

 

"A very good job." She smirked at Harry's embarrassed smile and Hermione's pleased look, about to head out when a voice addressed Harry.

 

"Mr Potter, can I speak with you?"

 

He turned around, only to see Lilah's friend.

 

"You three go on ahead, I'll catch up with you later." He gestured towards the portrait and after they left, he turned back.

 

"Of course, what's the problem?" He asked, curious until the boy changed appearances faster than Harry could blink and when the transformation did register with him, he couldn't hide his shock.

 

"Tonks?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to tell you all how much I enjoy writing Alistair :P At some point, I don't know when, would you like to take a peek at one of Ron's detentions? xD


	45. The Shifting Student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of Lilah's friend, Harry was faced with someone he knew all too well. on his way to the Room of Requirement, he becomes lost in thought about a certain someone and before he knows it he's at his destination, different to what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had absolutely bugger all inspiration wise for the summary of this chapter or the title. If it's not one or the other it's both xD

"Wotcher Harry! Tonks grinned at him, reflexively patting her body. "I'm a natural Metamorphmagus, but I still check to see if I have all the correct parts." She cast a bubble around the two of them, ensuring privacy.

 

"When you do change to an opposite gender, you change all the way?" Harry's train of thought went down a path he would've rather avoided and promptly blushed.

 

"Of course." She nodded as if turning into your opposite gender was the most natural thing in the world. "Have to keep things as genuine as I can. What do you expect me to say if the boys catch me changing and don't see anything hanging?"

 

He conceded that point, silently taking a seat. "I have to say, I didn't expect that. Your disguise is definitely the least suspicious thing. I can see why Dumbledore picked you for the job."

 

Perhaps more leaked into his tone of voice than he liked, as Tonks looked at him closely. "I won't ask for details as I can guess the basics for myself. While Dumbledore did get me to watch you, he had in mind that I wouldn't reveal my identity." She laughed to herself a little. "I will tail you to an extent but we'll discuss what to share and what not to share with him. I as well as Arthur and Minerva are firmly on your side."

 

"Thanks, I appreciate that." He frowned, thinking for a moment. "I take it Dumbledore asks for weekly reports?" At her nod, he continued. "How about as a cover, I'm working with you as a tutor of sorts at a scheduled day in the library? That way we can talk quietly and no one will be suspicious."

 

Tonks gave Harry an admiring look. "I was going to suggest that myself, you really have changed, in more ways than one." She raised an eyebrow, unabashedly staring at him.

 

"I feel a lot better and confident in myself." he confessed, relaxing in his chair slightly.

 

"I can tell, you've finally come into your own and I'm happy for you." A mischievous twinkle entered her eyes. "Anyone you have your eye on, a student perhaps?"

 

"Ah, no?" He was caught off guard, not really expecting a question of this kind from her, though he should've known better.

 

"Ah, I see how it is." She nodded solemnly. "A Professor is it? Personally, I always did think, as soon as I saw you both together, that you and Snape would make a delightful match. I mean really, all of the hatred between you is just unresolved sexual tension."

 

Harry's eyes bulged as he could barely squeeze out an answer. "Please, don't even joke about that." He had the urge to obliviate himself. Doing that, with Snape?

 

She laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Sorry." She looked at him again. "How about that new Defense Professor? He's 50 shades of dreamy and every possible side dish you could order." She had a rather starry gaze in her eyes.

 

"Yeah..." Harry spoke absentmindedly, promptly shook from his own thoughts by the stab of annoyance through his heart. Why was he annoyed? All Tonks did was call him handsome and that was true. He had the irrational thought of only he could call him handsome and promptly shoved that thought where it belonged, at the back of his mind.

 

"Ah so you do swing that way, always wondered." She nodded to herself as if confirming something.

  
"I swing both ways," He shrugged, unconcerned. "Sexuality was never a big thing with me. People are beautiful in their own way unless they've proved otherwise."

 

"Harry if you were a few years older, I'd take you for my own." She said jokingly. "There's been some terrible DADA Professors over the years, Remus being the exception for you. Hopefully, he can do a good job."

 

 _'I know he will.'_   he thought to himself, confident in that much.

 

"Speaking of Remus, how is he?" She asked, concerned.

 

"He's doing fine." a fond smile shaped his face. There's something relating to that I need to talk to you about actually, but I don't have the time to discuss it now."

 

"That's fine, I'll let you go. Just wanted to officially check in with you and establish our little secret." She winked, transforming back into her disguise. "Thank God for Madam Malkin's size adaptable charms." She muttered to herself, waving farewell at Harry and returning to her dorm room.

 

Hearing Tonks' comment and chuckling, he entered his dorm room for a few seconds, searching for his invisibility cloak. Pulling it out he was about to leave with it on, but there was something which didn't seem right. He focused closely on his cloak. In the centre was a bright spark of red and the bigger space, the cooler the colour. That wasn't what bothered Harry, however. A shimmer of black coated the surface, not quite touching the cloak. He cast a simple detection spell, eyes practically narrowing into slits as he dropped the cloak as though it burned him. He placed it back into his trunk, deciding to deal with it later.

 

Not only were there compulsion and loyalty spells but ones designed to weaken the mind's defences and raise the desire to be truthful. They were laced through the cloak in a way which if he'd wore it to the room of requirement, the spells would seep into his system through bodily contact. Both his sight attuned to the magic and the spell he'd cast gave him flashes of images relating to what these spells did, rather than something written.

 

 _'Crafty old fucker.'_   he thought to himself, sneering. While he truly appreciated Alistair's bracelet, clearly he couldn't let his guard down all the way. While he was reasonably protected from spells aimed directly at him, objects outside of his influence were still free game. Sighing, he instead placed a disillusionment charm around himself, placing muffliato at his feet. he hoped the spells didn't ruin his cloak, though he found it very unlikely, taking into consideration that this particular invisibility cloak was one of a kind if it being in possession of his father over 20 years ago wasn't any indication.

 

When he could, he'd take a proper look at his cloak and if need be, he'd ask Alistair. After all, he had 1,484 more years of experience than he did. It again struck him just how old Alistair was and all that he must have seen, in more than one world. He was the kind of person where Harry could sit and listen to him speak for hours, with his pleasant voice, each word spoken from his lips sounding as though it were carefully chosen for the occasion. Back at Dracula's Castle, he remembered the way he'd tilt his head slightly in curiosity, ponytail trailing over his shoulder. The way his eyes told Harry more than words ever could, they were so expressive and stunning.

 

But, he wasn't starting to like Alistair was he, as in past friendship sense? Surely not. However, all that he'd thought so far and certainly his reaction with Tonks earlier certainly didn't help his case. He'd said to himself before that he found him undeniably attractive, but was that something which could develop into more? He was doubtful, partly to his inexperience but also at the little amount of time he'd known the man for. It was enough time for a crush to develop certainly, but somehow, this was different to Cho. It didn't compare to his current feelings at all. He was willing to continue on as normal and see where things lead. The fact that Alistair was a Vampire was certainly no issue with him. He was open to anyone really, within reason. He wouldn't be asking Aragog out on a date anytime soon.

 

 _'What am I thinking?'_   he shook his head incredulously. He hadn't paid much attention to where he was going. So used to Hogwarts was he, that while his mind was on other things, he was very near his destination.

 

He looked at the entrance to the Room of Requirement, confused. Instead of the heavy, dark and very large door that he'd come to expect, in its place was a glass door, the glass itself stained various shades of blue, in such a way that Harry thought he was looking at the sea. Around the door attached to it, was a leafed arch with small orchids protruding from the gaps. Looking closer, there were tiny little creatures flying harmlessly about, giving off a gentle silver glow.

 

It was beautiful and he was almost sorry to disturb the tranquillity by pushing the door.

 

Judging from the door's appearance, something told him that the Room of Requirement had answered one particularly eccentric girl's wishes.


	46. We Three Unite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry got more than he bargained for when entering the Room of Requirement. What he came to expect was the giving of gifts and afterwards, a discussion of his summer. He should've known it wouldn't go according to plan.

As Harry stepped through the entrance, he had to subtly check behind him and make sure he was actually still in Hogwarts, as the sight made him think he was entering an entirely different world. He had to blink his eyes for a few seconds, as the dim hallways of the castle had made his eyes slightly sensitive to a place which was anything but dark. It reflected the theme of the door, but so much more.

 

What caught his eye first was a bridge and as he looked at his feet, blades of grass surrounded them. The bridge itself was made of glass, so smooth and clear that when he cautiously stepped onto it, he feared it may break, but it held strong. As he looked down, he could see a faint reflection of himself, but more the ethereal colour of the water below. Off to the side, was a natural waterfall, the gentle trickling of water soothing to his ears. Looking at it made him think of a country far away with waters bluer than the sky, but he was here, in Scotland.

 

The water surrounded everywhere, only stopped by a long stretch of land much like the one he was standing on. Dotted about the grass and up higher on ledges near the waterfall were more orchids, each pure white and more of the same creatures fluttering about them. A sharp colour caught his eye and he watched in fascination as a rainbow Koi swam right under the bridge he was standing on. Looking closer, there were more brightly coloured fish in the water, a lot which he didn't recognise.

 

Any adjectives which sprang to mind didn't adequately portray how tranquil and untainted everything was. While Luna had a troubled past, her mind remained as pure and unique as ever and it was something which he greatly admired her for. This fact was reinforced as with every step, the soft sound of wind chimes caressed his ears, though there were none visibly in sight. In front of him was a cobbled stone path, the stone marble like in appearance as either side of him two young cherry blossoms in full bloom gently rained their petals upon the untouched grass.

 

A soft breeze blew, his nostrils filling pleasantly with the scent of blossoms. If he looked above, the skies were an endless blue. Lowering his gaze to ahead, there was a sitting area, with benches in much the same style as the bridge, circled around a modest fountain, with lightly sprinkling water. The area was slightly shaded, as it was covered by a domed roof, with a design of such elegance, he couldn't even begin to guess how long it would take by hand. 4 pillars helped to support the dome, and looking more closely, orchids were somehow growing on the structure too.

 

He almost lost himself within the sights, until a voice snapped him from them.

 

"It was like this when we got here." He looked over at Neville, seated next to Luna, who tilted her head slightly, blinking.

 

"The Nargles don't swarm you anymore." She stated, factually.

 

"They don't?" He questioned, thinking back on the time when Luna told him they did.

 

"Your eyes are clearer than they've ever been. What better room for you to share your adventure than a one which is nothing but?" She smiled, suddenly rising to her feet and skipping around the fountain.

 

"Welcome to Lunaland," Ginny spoke, summing up everyone's thoughts.

 

"Tell us everything, Harry." Hermione gazed at him intently, with an expression he usually associated with her taking notes in lessons.

 

"I will," He promised, laughing slightly and altering his robes to access the pouch he always kept with him. "After I have given you all something."

 

Luna stopped her skipping around the fountain, clapping her hands together excitedly. "Presents?" She was bouncing on her feet, almost as though she were about to resume her skipping with twice the amount of energy.

 

"Yes, presents." He smiled fondly, reaching into his pouch for the bracelet, silently giving it to Luna, who didn't hesitate to slip it on her wrist.

 

With a pulsating glow, the bracelet fits snugly to her wrist, something appearing between 2 of the sapphires. It was a charm, in the shape of a crescent moon and a smooth white in appearance.

 

Once again, Harry marvelled at the fact that nothing in his life ever went down the set path.

 

"Thank you, Harry." She looked at her gift, something in her eyes saying she knew more than what she let on and softly, kissed him on the cheek. In an effort to ignore the chuckles as his face flamed, he brought out the container with the plant Harry had harvested near his home for Neville. 

 

"I don't know what this plant is, I found it near where I live now. I thought you'd appreciate it," he spoke, watching as his fellow Gryffindor's eyes lit up.

 

While much had changed about the once painfully shy Gryffindor, one thing which Harry could count on being the same was his passion and enthusiasm for plants and instead of a verbal response, he gave him a look of gratitude, studying the plant through the case intently. "I'm not sure what this is either," he confessed in slight confusion. "But I look forward to finding out! Thanks, Harry." He placed it next to him, giving Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder, waiting to see what he'd gotten everyone else.

 

"Ginny." from within his pouch, a velvet lined box with a pair of studs appeared, which he placed in her outstretched hand.

 

Ginny looked at her earrings with no small amount of awe. "They're beautiful Harry, thank you." They were studs, so wearing them as part of her uniform was not an issue. Before she could so much as slip them on, the rose quartz shifted so that it became a border and within them, were two tiny suns. Silently, she slipped them into her ears, removing the plain studs she already had in.

 

"I'm sensing a theme here," Harry mused, looking between the 2 gifts in interest. He could practically feel Hermione's mind working on possible explanations for this development and right now, he would be happy to welcome them. In a sense, he could understand Luna, since her very name meant the moon. But why would her name change jewellery structure? And that didn't explain Ginny's. Deciding to think about it later, He handed the final gift to Hermione, a modest ruby drop pendant, nothing fancy or bulky.

 

She studied it intently, barely remembering to thank him as she watched the changes. A tiny tree was etched into the centre, the chain it was attached to had leaves sprouting from it. Still focused, her eyes widened when the pendant against her chest began to glow, simultaneously with Ginny's earrings and Luna's bracelet.

 

The scenery shifted slightly so that the structure was gone and in its place, was a large patch of grass. Ginny shrieked slightly as she and the other 2 girls suddenly floated into the air and while Hermione was startled, the calm and logical side of her brain was working into overdrive, still coming up with explanations while assessing what was happening. Luna showed no change, as though she'd expected for this to happen all along.

 

Harry sprang both of his wands to his hands so fast that Neville did a double take, but he followed suit as the pair silently watched, in case something happened.

 

Ginny felt an insistent urge to link hands, as though something was trying to physically push her body into doing so. Not resisting, they all linked hands and as one, they formed a triangle, the glowing increasing in intensity.

 

They were several feet in the air by now and below them, something was beginning to grow. The ground shook harshly and Neville dropped to the ground but after assistance from Harry, both managed to keep their footing with difficulty. The wind which was once calming was anything but now.

 

"What's happening?!" Ginny shouted, trying to make her voice heard over the wind, but to no avail.

 

Hermione was one of the first to notice what was happening at their feet, aside from Harry and perhaps Luna, who had the same gentle and curious expression on her face as always.

 

They were wrenched apart and in the gap, a tree which made the whomping willow look like a sapling grew in the space. While the three were thrown back violently through the air, they were lowered to their feet gently, Ginny staggering from the shock.

 

"Are you alright?" Harry went over to Ginny to support her and collect Hermione, while Neville went over to Luna.

 

"I'm fine," She shakily blew out a breath. "What the hell was that about?"

 

The 5 came to a standstill at the impressive sight, but before they had a chance to study the new addition, a large scroll landed at their feet. Silently looking to either side for permission, Harry picked up the scroll, opening it to read aloud the contents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been slowly but surely editing my earlier chapters as it was only a couple of months ago that I realised you had to put spaces between punctuation. I genuinely didn't know until someone pointed it out since I always typed like I'd physically write but looking back on it, it just looks so wrong without spaces :P


	47. Sun, Moon and Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Ginny and Luna have all been chosen for something important to both their world and another. All this, yet Hermione is still intent on learning of Harry's adventures.

_To whoev'r reads this missive:_

 

_Eith'r yourself 'r those who is't art in thy company has't been recognis'd by the pow'rs yond beest as not only representatives of forces United, but allies and square'rs f'r all Fae kind. longeth has't been writ in l're yond this day wouldst cometh._

_'In the realm beyond our owneth, th're art troubles far most wondrous'r than yond of the Fae. This realm shall birth the human synchrony needed to link w'rlds.'_

_Childe of Sun, the lady who is't burns bright, blazing with not only passion but f'rocity f'r what is lief to h'r. The lady shall beest the ying to moon's yang, th're to square fi'rcely. The lady is strength, the Warri'r._

_Childe of Moon, who is't is fair'r than the most delicate of beings and halcyon in the visage of most wondrous turmoil. The lady is silent, watchful, gentle. Yet, the lady can changeth the tides of fate. the lady is youth, the Healeth'r._

_Childe of Bloom, struggling to groweth. Once the lady is grown and blooming, the lady shall adapteth und'r both the gentle Moon and the blazing Sun. H'r branches reacheth f'r the sky, spreading in all directions. H'r roots art firmly embedd'd in the soil yond the lady's madeth h'r home. The lady is wisdom, the Tactician._

 

In the corner of the scroll, a small triangle could be seen, with the base being the Moon and the Sun while the tip is a tree, each on the three points. From the points they connected in the centre, a trio of swirling lines. Harry drew his attention back to the scroll, reading further.

 

_As one, they shalt striveth to connecteth our w'rld as we knoweth to the w'rld yond those are b'rn to. They shall square and protecteth not only f'r Fae kind but f'r their owneth._

_Alloweth t beest known yond the fair maidens three art a pivotal pointeth in bridging gaps once and f'r all._

 

It was handwritten but at the end, another had written something.

 

Sun, Shattered Blaze

**Cé mo punt chroí, beidh mé ag troid**

_While my heart pounds, I'll fight_

 

Moon, Gentle Whisper

**Le m'anam, beidh mé a chosaint**

_With my soul, I'll protect_

 

Bloom, Willow's Strike

**Mar shreabha mo eagna, beidh mé mar thoradh ar**

_As my wisdom flows, I'll lead_

 

He had to intentionally not focus his eyes upon the scroll to read the translation, which was strange. At a guess, he'd say one of the Fae had written this in their natural language, but the faint tingling in this thumbs suggested magic was at work which allowed him to see the translation. He had no idea what to make of all this.

 

While it was a struggle to read through the Early Modern English, he faintly recognised studying Shakespeare for a while at his old primary school and found himself slightly surprised not at the recognition on Hermione's face, but on Neville's and Ginny's too. Something about the way Luna studied the writing intently over Harry's shoulder indicated that she was familiar with the older language too.

 

"What are you looking at us like that for?" Ginny quirked an eyebrow, amused. "There isn't anyone Wizard or Muggle alike who don't know Shakespeare, he was a squib after all."

 

"He was?" He looked at Hermione for confirmation and she nodded silently. Harry had the feeling that if he wasn't holding the scroll, she'd have run away to thoroughly dissect the meaning much like a squirrel with her nut.

 

The thought caused him to smile until he looked up and finally took note of the tree.

 

"Picea Sitchensis." Neville piped up and when only receiving a blank look from Harry in return, he sighed. "It's a big tree."

 

"Sorry Neville," He smiled in apology. "I don't speak Herbology lingo as good as you, you could give Sprout a run for her money."

 

He waved away Harry's apology, silently admiring the sight.

 

Harry had seen trees in his lifetime but whatever this tree was classified as he was sure this particular one couldn't be found in the Muggle world.

 

Though trees were strong and could withstand many types of weather, there was a certain fragility around it that Harry was half afraid it would crumble before his eyes. Perhaps it was because rather than the bold colours and rough bark he associated with trees, the colours were soft and muted in comparison to the vibrant scenery around him. The leaves were practically translucent, paper-like, as though someone had used a watercolour brush to paint them in, it was just a faint hint of green.

 

"Should we do as it asks?" Ginny questioned, looking between Hermione and Luna. "I can see they're activation phrases for each of us, but for what?"

 

"We'll have to find out." Shockingly enough this came from Hermione and everyone except Luna, eyes still on the tree, looked at her.

 

"Well, aren't any of you a little excited about this? This is a real opportunity to learn more we know nothing about." She shrugged sheepishly as Harry barked out a laugh.

 

"I never thought I'd see the day where Hermione Granger abandons all sense of caution and plunges in head first like the Gryffindor she is. Neville, hold me!" He flapped his arms about dramatically, pretending to faint while Neville played along, catching him.

 

Hermione pursed her lips, the amused glint in her eye showing her true thoughts. "I have considered things, but I'm taking a leaf out of your book Harry."

 

Before any more could be said, their attention was captured by a soft and inquisitive voice, not aimed at them.

 

"Good evening, pretty tree," Luna spoke as one would to a friend. "Will you show me how I shall protect with my soul?"

 

She skipped to the trunk, carefully placing her hand onto it and her ear pressed against the strangely smooth bark. She nodded her head seriously, as though listening to the response.

 

But, the rest could've sworn that the wind whistled in a different way from before.

 

Luna removed her bracelet, hanging it on a lower branch and to their surprise, it seemed to melt into it. As it did, part of the branch had broken off, dropping into Luna's palm and shifting before her eyes.

 

In size, it resembled a Stave, but not a single part of it was wood. The main body was twisted and see through, ending with a point and resembling a unicorn horn, though the material looked like glass. Near the top, was a large sphere, made entirely of moonstone which seemed to shine with a light of its own. Where the horn shape ended, there was an indentation and as Luna pressed her thumb over it, the gift she was given at the start showed itself once more, the exception being an indentation in one of the sapphires. Unperturbed and not looking in the least surprised, she slipped the bracelet back onto her wrist.

 

"Shutaro told me, this is Gentle Whisper." Luna smiled serenely, coming to join the group.

 

"Shutaro?" Hermione and Ginny spoke at the same time.

 

"That's his name," Luna said simply. "He told me." From anyone else, this would sound insane, but Harry learned to always expect the unexpected with her, so he didn't doubt it.

 

As Hermione made a gesture for Ginny to go next, she also put her palm against the bark, along with her ear. She knew her friend long enough to know that her instincts were usually spot on.

 

"While my heart pounds, I'll fight." She spoke firmly, almost sure she could hear a voice instructing her.

 

Looking down, she noticed a large hollow in the middle of the trunk which wasn't there before. Following the voice, she removed her studs and placed them within the hollow, shielding her eyes from an incredibly bright light which nearly blinded her, but ended as soon as it had begun. Within that hollow, she could see the studs shifting, reshaping, until with some effort, she managed to pull out a huge Glaive.

 

The blade itself was golden in colour, eventually fading to orange and red, the metal not straight cut, but cut in a way which looked like flames. The handle was a solid grip with an indentation just above it of a sun. from the sides of the handle and connecting to the blade, sharp spikes jutted out and in the centre, was a revolving sun. The blade looked as though it could break any moment, as it gave the illusion of cracks forming across it, pulsing and silver in colour.

 

"It's going to take some serious practice before I can swing this about." She joked, doing similar to Luna and pressed her index finger firmly into the indentation, whereby they turned back into studs. The indentation on her jewellery was for the left stud, as there was a slight difference in the sun motif than on the right. It was just as well the activation was in such a way where it didn't accidentally transform, as a casual swipe wouldn't do it. It was just the right size for the upper pad of her thumb, it seems it would have to be intentionally pressed for the change to happen, thankfully. She didn't know how she would explain to Snape why she had something which had nothing to do with potions and everything to do with dangerous weapons. Secretly, deep down, being able to perhaps bash in Death Eaters with something so cool brought her a thrill of excitement. Slipping them back into her ears she took a seat next to Luna, who decided to watch the proceedings while seated on the grass.

 

With curiosity burning fiercely in her eyes, Hermione was the last one. Harry, for his part, was quietly watching and wondering if the Fae knew something which he didn't at that time. Was it planned? To him, it seemed like pure coincidence that he'd found the gemstones in that strange container on the way to meeting them, but perhaps it was intentional. Playing with those thoughts in mind, he wondered what Hermione would receive.

 

"Mar shreabha mo eagna, beidh mé mar thoradh ar."

 

Somehow, Harry was not surprised that Hermione knew Irish. How much he didn't know, but her thirst for knowledge was nigh unquenchable.

 

Hand on the trunk like Luna and Ginny, she silently sprung her wand from its holster, pointing at the root. "Aguamenti."

 

Suddenly, one of the tree roots grew from the ground, twisting and turning until she flinched when the very tip pierced the ruby around her neck. Slowly and carefully, still slightly startled, she removed her pendant and watched in fascination as Willow's Strike, as she was told, was formed.

 

The root had twisted in such a way, that the shape of a longbow was visible. Once she picked it up, it changed instantly, a soft line connecting from one to the other, to complete it. The entire bow had the pattern of a tree, intricate branch and leaf designs curving around and up it, glowing a luminous green. The pattern left the very wood itself from top to bottom, curving in a way where one was symmetrical to the other. Like with Luna and Ginny's, there was also an indentation, but this time on both sides, in a way where she had to pinch with her thumb and index finger. While Luna's and Ginny's were easily explainable, where were the arrows? Leaving that for something she'd need to ponder later, she pinched the indentations, putting her pendant back on and noticing the same marks on the Ruby, as the bow vanished, to be retrieved in the same way as Luna and Ginny would theirs. 

 

She was about to head back when something bright and swirling emitted from the trunk of the tree. It grew larger until, it stayed, forming the vague shape of a doorway.

 

Now, she was torn between investigating this new occurrence and asking Harry to share his summer. Deciding that the former could wait she joined the others on the floor, looking at Harry expectantly.

 

"All this fascinating stuff has happened and you still want to hear about my summer?" He asked incredulously, arm rested on a knee.

 

"Harry, your life puts the most thrilling of action films to shame, of course, I want to hear about it!" She was practically twitching with impatience.

 

He decided to oblige before his best friend spontaneously combusted. Looking around at the rest of his friends who were all listening attentively, he explained all that had happened so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried a bit of Shakespeare xD I was thinking this was written a long time ago, but also I thought it looked kind of cool :P I tell you what thinking of weapon names that didn't sound too horrible and fit who they were was harder than anything else!


	48. Their Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is lost in thought to the point where Ginny decides to take matters into her own hands. Then, the rest are reminded why it was always best to stay on Hermione's good side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is twice as long as the last, they really do write themselves, so the length is never always the same, apologies for that :P

As the sky remained cloudless and blue as ever, there was no way to tell the passage of time, though instinctively he knew that in 'Lunaland', it wouldn't be the same as at Hogwarts. Either way, once he'd finished, he knew that a considerable amount had gone by.

 

"So you've met the Defence Professor before. He's one of the oldest living Vampires in existence and you're allied with him. Then, you meet the Fae and they also offer you an alliance, not to mention Dumbledore, all that he's done including to Remus, the soul of the Basilisk you slew on your arm in your body and not one but two magical Animagi forms and that's glossing over other details." Hermione summed up, deeply interested. "I have a question."

 

"Just the one?" he joked, reaching for a glass of Pumpkin Juice. It wasn't him who asked for refreshments, but it was just what he needed after all that talking.

 

"Dracula's castle, or technically Lothaire Castle," She started, eyes already focused on something in her mind that only she could see. "Was there a library? If so, did you see it? What was it like? How-"

 

"Hermione." he stopped her with a hand gesture, snorting into his goblet. "That was more than one question." She stopped mid-speech, but that didn't prevent her earnest gaze.

 

"That's our Hermione." Neville quipped while Luna seemed as curious as she was. Ginny, however, was looking at Harry intently, the reason why lost to him.

 

"There is," he confirmed. "I'm not just saying this purely so I can see you fidget and squirm about potential knowledge waiting to be in your hands. Well, mostly not." He amended, seeing her narrow her eyes.

 

Describing the library to Hermione, he was reminded of his interaction with Alistair the first time he discovered it.

 

* * *

 

 

_Taking his time to walk and appreciate the architecture, as he frequently found himself doing during his brief stay at the castle, a pair of ornate doors caught his eye. Much like the castle entrance, they were Gothic in appearance. However, they didn't give off the vibe of dread as those first double doors did upon his arrival. Approaching them, he gave an experimental push, finding himself once again surprised when they swung open with ease. He nearly received said doors back on his face once he'd pushed them open as the sight rendered him motionless._

 

_He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd said "fuck me." at some point, or perhaps he'd mouthed it. He'd certainly thought it at any rate. The Hogwarts library was impressive but in comparison to this, it was closer to bookshelves in a nursery, though he wasn't suicidal enough to say as much to Madam Pince. That woman protected those books with the same relentless ferocity as Madam Pomfrey did her patients. He'd been in the hospital wing enough to know that for a fact._

 

_He walked in fully, almost wishing he was Hagrid's size so he didn't have to crane his neck. Hell even if he was the size of Grawp he reckoned he'd still have to tilt his head a bit._

 

_The room was circular, but by no means small. The ceiling was made of stone but looked to have the same enchantment as the Great Hall at Hogwarts did. If he looked up, he could see the sun setting. There were no walls to be seen because they were covered by shelves fitted with books. Or were the walls shelves themselves? Harry didn't know. There was a wonderful kind of lived in vibe he received from this room and in a way, he could understand why libraries were like a second home for Hermione. The room seemed to have a light of its own, there were no candles in sight, understandable since the room was 90% books. Then again, it was nothing protective magic couldn't handle. In the middle, various chairs and tables were set up, along with a few quills and ink and to his surprise, a couple of muggle pieces of stationery too._

 

_But what caught his eye the most, was a large book on a stand, directly in the centre. It was glowing faintly with a self-inking quill attached to a chain at the side of it. Approaching curiously, he wondered what it was._

 

_"Ah, I see you have found the library. A sight to behold, isn't it?" A familiar voice called from beside him. He jumped, nothing in his magic or senses gave Alistair's location away._

 

_"It is." he managed, trying to calm his frantically beating heart. "I could use some of your stealth, looks like it could come in handy. But please don't do it too often to me, I'm too young to die!" He cried out dramatically, heart rate not slowing any at the sound of Alistair's warm chuckle._

 

_"You are indeed." He met Harry's eyes, tilting his head. "Are you fond of reading? My brother and I were, though we often choose to see the sights for ourselves rather than to sit and read about them. When he was a child he would sometimes pass out over a book while our Mother and Father were off hunting somewhere. We Vampires do need to recharge from time to time and I often found myself carrying him back to his room." He sighed. "So long ago now."_

 

_Harry was curious as to just how his brother went missing, but he sensed it was a sore topic. He just knew Dumbledore had to be involved somehow. Either way judging by his reaction when he mentioned him, there was some past history._

 

_"It depends on what you mean by fond." He hesitated, eyes clouding over with past memories. "My relatives who used to put up with me, never let me read any books or anything which would benefit me as a whole while I was in their household. The only times I ever could read were in the school library. But even then, due to The Dursleys insisting I was a juvenile delinquent of the highest order, I never felt comfortable reading when the Librarian was looking at me in a way which suggested she thought I would vandalise the school's property. And if it wasn't her it was my cousin, he never voluntarily went into the library to read, only to find and torment me. I avoided reading. Not because I wanted to but out of necessity, I was 6 years old and started to associate reading with pain, as if they ever caught me with one of Dudley's books, it was usually a skillet to the back of a head or a slap. I learned not to then. Even when I was away from my relatives and at Hogwarts, my desire to learn was dampened for years due to Dumbledore's and in part my ex-friend Ron's involvement, along with the reminder of what reading used to earn me. But now that I'm free from both, I think I'm learning to appreciate books for what they are." He finished, lowering his gaze which had been fixed on the taller Vampire. Why was he comfortable enough to be so open with him? "Sorry about that, I said too much."_

 

_It was times like this when Alistair was thankful for his great age. If he were anything younger than a century, he was almost certain he'd lose control. As it was he nipped his eye changing in the bud before it became a problem. He knew his feelings towards Harry were partly because all of a sudden, someone didn't run fleeing despite what they were faced with. Harry had gone above and beyond his expectations. He couldn't lie to himself, he was fond of Harry in the sense that he was starved for company aside from his meetings with Rupert and contact with other Vampires within their circle. But he was also appreciating him for who he was. Not Harry Potter, the young man with expectations, titles and everything which he didn't ask for upon his shoulders but Harry, the young man with the enchanting green eyes which sparkled so wonderfully. To hear that he was hurt by his own family no less, filled him with a rage as ice cold as his skin was to the touch. While his heart still beat within his chest, albeit slower than the average human, he would ensure no more harm headed his way._

 

_Lost in his thoughts and slightly regretting bogging Alistair down with the details, he flinched ever so slightly when a cool hand touched his shoulder. "Please, don't apologise. I am glad that you shared this with me. It's never too late to begin reading." He spoke gently, such a kind smile on his lips that when Harry glanced at it, the tension in his face melted a little._

 

_Alistair seemed to be lost in thought for a moment until he turned to face the book on the stand. "Tell me, have you ever heard of The Art of War by Sun Tsu?"_

 

_"I have, Hermione has told me about it. I was interested in what I'd heard, but I've never had the chance to read it for myself." He replied, intrigued._

 

_"He was an interesting fellow. Open minded too. He was aware of the existence of Vampires yet didn't bat so much as an eyelid. Perhaps it was his role as a strategist which allowed for such calm. One of the more pleasant humans I've had the fortune to encounter, in that sense." He spoke, writing quickly in the book and Harry watched as something brightly glowed in the distance._

 

_"Ah, here we are." He didn't do anything, not even move a finger, yet the book he desired flew towards him. He caught it so fast, that the movement didn't register with Harry's eyes or brain._

 

_Before he had time to marvel at just how fast Alistair was, he'd turned to Harry. "In truth, I have read this particular book so often, I could recite it word for word. But there's something charming about turning the pages. Would you like me to read it to you?"_

 

_Harry blushed. "Yes please." In a way, it felt childish. But since when had he ever been a child? He'd never had the simple times of being read a story. Perhaps when he lived with his parents, or even by Remus or Sirius he had, but it wasn't something he could remember now._

 

_'Also, I can be closer and have an excuse to listen to that radiant voice of his.' He didn't try and suppress that thought, for once acknowledging he was 16 and slightly lustful._

 

_He gave a heartwarming smile, gesturing to follow him to the sofa. Harry bit his lip in an effort to not show an ear-splitting idiotic grin in response as he followed him over._

 

_As Alistair took a seat, Harry sat beside him, relaxing into the cushions and watching his hand movements as the well-worn book was cracked open. His hands reminded him of Snape's. Not that he ever wanted to think of the man that loathed him so in such a situation, but the same delicate practised movements, as though each was thought out precisely before doing so, rang similarly for Alistair's. Naturally, he preferred Alistair's hands, not to mention a jar of ingredients hadn't been thrown at his head by them. Not that he didn't deserve it, admittedly._

 

_As Alistair began to read aloud, he was enraptured not only by the words themselves but the way he spoke them with such passion. He ended up leaning to get a better look at words on the page, unaware that he was gently resting his head on the man's shoulder doing so._

 

_Alistair, for his part, was enjoying himself greatly. Not only in whose company he was sharing, but at what they were doing together. He smiled internally seeing the completely attentive look on his face, one which he found rather adorable. He admitted to himself that all the expressions he'd seen so far were endearing. He was surprised when he felt the weight of Harry's head on his shoulder. He knew, learning what he had about him that he wasn't one to trust so easily, but seeing Harry let his guard down in such trust almost fooled him into thinking his own heart beat quicker. It was a comfortable, warm weight and carefully, trying not to startle him, he gently re-positioned his arm so it was wrapped around him._

 

_It was only as he was listening to Alistair read that he realised he wasn't in his usual robes. Instead, he was in a long sleeved peach coloured shirt, with a slight shine to it. His eyes widened slightly when an arm drew him closer to Alistair's side. Normally, he'd tense, stiffen up or failing that, flip out when someone unexpectedly touched him though since Remus, those moments were few and far between. But this was entirely different. He'd been resting his head on the man's shoulder unconsciously and he was disturbed to realise just how comfortable he was around someone he barely knew. He didn't ignore his instincts, however, and they told him that Alistair was someone he could trust. Call it his own personal experience and partially Thanatos, as they say, horses can sense a good person._

 

_As his body made more contact with the man beside him, even if just a little, he could feel how perfectly toned he was. He focused on the words spoken, feeling more relaxed than he ever had in a long while._

 

_Beneath his arm, Alistair could feel Harry's muscles relax fully and the warmth by his side was pleasant. This was so reminiscent of the times he used to spend with Solomon as a child, that he stopped for a moment._

 

_"You ok?" Harry asked, almost dozing off. From a side view, Alistair looked sorrowful. He didn't like to see such a look on anyone's face, save for his enemies, which Alistair was certainly not among._

 

_Looking into the clear crystal gaze of Harry, he had the sudden desire to kiss him. Banishing that thought immediately, he reassured him. "I apologise. I'm fine. Are you enjoying this?"_

 

_"Very much so." Harry offered a lopsided smile, once more listening until he was relaxed so much, that his eyelids began to grow heavy._

 

_Ears picking up on soft, even breathing and a decrease in heart rate, Alistair stopped reading, looking down into the sleeping face of Harry. It was looking at him now that he realised just how young he was and his instinct to protect reared its head. That he was able to comfortably fall asleep on him, when anything could happen, was an indication of just how much he trusted him._

 

_Not having the heart to awaken him, Alistair took note of the page number, all the while a hand carding softly through his hair. He'd need all the sleep he could get if his past experiences weren't an indication of anything._

 

_Sighing to himself at how much of a sentimental fool he could be, he silently watched over Harry as he peacefully slept on._

 

* * *

 

 

 _'I can't believe I fell asleep on him! What an idiot.'_   Current Harry thought, mentally slapping himself, unaware that after he'd finished his explanation of the library, that Ginny was trying to get his attention.

 

 _'I'd never felt so relaxed before, but still, it was embarrassing.'_   He flushed lightly but despite this, a smile tugged at his lips.

 

"Harry? Earth to Harry?"

 

Simply thinking about that moment filled his heart with warmth. That was until something cold covered him.

 

Spluttering, he blinked his eyes and was brought back to reality when he saw Ginny with her wand pointed at his nose.

 

"That's better." She smiled in satisfaction, turning into a smirk at Neville's laughter and Hermione trying to hide a smile. Luna merely tilted her head, eyes shining. "So, now that you're suitably drenched," She placed her wand back in its holster. "Do share with us who exactly has captured Harry Potter's heart? If the masses were to know you could swim to Potions class via your fan's tears."

 

"Oh haha." Harry rolled his eyes. "And what makes you say that?"

 

"I know that look anywhere." Ginny stared at him. "You can't fool me. It's like with Cho but you have it much worse."

 

Was he that obvious? In answer to his silent question, he could see the others agree with Ginny.

 

"I'll tell you, but only if it ever goes somewhere." He promised.

 

Satisfied, Ginny yawned, rubbing her eyes. "I bet it's late. As much as I'd like to see what's through Shutaro's portal, I think we've had enough excitement for tonight."

 

For a moment Hermione looked to protest but silently nodded.

 

"Shall the DA be hosted here?" Luna asked curiously. "Shutaro wouldn't mind the company, though he will hide his secret from others who don't have permission to know."

 

"Why not?" Neville shrugged. "It's a relaxing environment to be in and might help ease any younger students if they want to join."

 

After a few moments, everyone seemed to have come to an agreement.

 

"It's settled then. We need the DA now more than ever, but not due to an incompetent Defence teacher. In fact, I have every confidence that he'll be just what this school needs. The DA will help to unify the students and to work together as a team, despite their houses. How do you feel about inviting a few Slytherins? Providing you use the same contract as last time, Hermione, sharing the club without express permission shouldn't be a problem."

 

"Yes." Hermione agreed, standing up with the others, ready to leave the room. "I've made some alterations and sealed any potential loopholes. The penalty for attempting to share the DA's existence will not be as obvious. While we had to keep the existence of the DA quiet due to that woman," She practically spat, "Dumbledore knows of its existence and as long as he still thinks the club is in support of him, there shouldn't be a problem. The first infraction will be minor, the persons involved won't be able to tell anything but the truth for the entire day or if in the evening, the entirety of that day and tomorrow. The second infraction will be a little more severe. While they will be allowed to lie, doing so will cause a sharp shock and this lasts for 3 days. Repeat infractions after this will carry on from the second, with the addition of colour changing and slightly shape-shifting body parts only they can see, as it's an illusion, which will last for a week, a week extra if repeated, until we have no choice but to remove them permanently." She finished. "I think I was rather light on the punishments, personally." Her eyes gleamed with an inner light. As one, the other 4 were once again reminded to never get on Hermione's bad side.

 

"That's great Hermione, thanks." He gave her a grateful smile, exhaustion catching up with him. "We'd better head back. We can always check out what's behind Shutaro at another time."

 

As they all agreed, Neville and Luna left as a pair, then Ginny and Hermione and finally Harry. If one of the two pairs or he were caught, it would allow for the others to get back safely, though he was confident they'd all get back without being caught.

 

His guess was proved correct. Neville had escorted Luna to the Ravenclaw entrance and had made it back unharmed. After saying a brief goodnight to the rest of his friends, Harry wasted no time, collapsing onto his bed, wary in case Ron was there. He needn't worry it seemed, as he apparently wasn't back from detention yet.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief he relaxed his body and mind for the night, wondering what was in store tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Library flashback was a last minute idea and it refused to leave until I'd actually written it in O.O I hope those who are interested in Harry/Alistair like it. I'm trying to balance main story/romantic interactions so that it's a best of both kind of situation but I don't know how good of a job I'm doing xD


	49. Voluntary Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry visits the chamber of secrets once more and sees Snape painted in an entirely different light.

What was that horrible sound?

 

Blinking his eyes blearily and attempting to get used to the dim lighting, Harry pricked his ears. It was coming from the bed beside him.

 

Ah, Ron Weasley, the boy who snored as surely as one of Hagrid's rock cakes could break an Acromantulas' fangs. He was half tempted to place a silencing charm over him and return to sleep, but he found himself unfortunately wide awake. Often when he woke up, he rarely could get back to sleep and was used to waking early, a side product of The Dursleys. While they didn't rise until at least 8 am, he was expected to wake himself up at the crack of dawn, or else. Sometimes he managed to get away with rising a little later if they were all fast asleep.

 

As he found himself awake, he cast Tempus, grimacing as 6 am floated in front of him. Sometimes habits were hard to break. He wondered what he'd do for the remaining time but then had an idea. It was better sooner rather than later he should release Aela back into her body, so why not do it now, while he knew he had the time?

 

He could hear her hiss of approval in the back of his mind. The armor which he received from the Fae was light and comfortable enough to be worn beneath his robes and sturdy enough to be worn on their own. He found it would be useful if ever he were in a battle situation and it was school hours. Checking to ensure that both of his wands were secure and dressing in his robes, he masked his footsteps, casting a Disillusionment charm. He almost added a scent masking charm to that but thought that was a little overkill. Even if he did run to Mrs Norris, he doubted she'd follow him into the chamber and even if she did find Filch, his grumblings wouldn't translate into Parseltongue anytime soon.

 

The Room of Requirement would probably provide an entrance to the chamber, but it was easier to just travel the way he knew, at least for now. Perhaps once he was in there, another exit would be revealed as short of casting a levitation charm on himself or a sticking charm to climb back up the pipe, he wasn't sure of another way to exit the chamber once he'd entered.

 

He decided he'd take the risk, for once glad he didn't have his cloak with him. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he'd used it earlier.

 

The halls were silent at night, eerily so, but it didn't bother him much, not even when he was 11. Any kind of quiet was nice, it gave him a feeling of security, much like what he'd received when locked in his cupboard, in a twisted sort of way. He was imprisoned against his will and yet once inside, he found peace.

 

Now, he could find peace elsewhere, but still, that remained one of the first places he could call his own. He left the little bits and pieces he'd managed to hide in there, in a way shedding his own life and having the ability to find a new one.

 

Entering the girl's bathroom, he looked around cautiously, but couldn't see Myrtle, to his relief. While he didn't mind speaking with her, he really did have things to do.

 

"Open." He hissed, the entrance to the chamber being revealed to him once more after 4 years.

 

 _'Aguamenti.'_   he thought, hand outstretched. As the water gushed down the pipe, cleaning it of filth, he thought back on how handy it would have been to know this spell beforehand.

 

 _'Scourgify.'_   Not to mention that one.

 

While he could clean his robes on the way down, it made much more sense to clean what he'd be riding down. That and he could appreciate the slide without fear of imminent death or the imminent death of his younger friend.

 

 _'At least this time I'm choosing to have a Hogwarts adventure.'_   He thought, rather wryly, the experience of sliding down the pipe not as euphoric as he'd imagined. That was either because the adrenaline he had running through his system heightened things, or flying as Lume rendered a slide ride unimpressive. Everything was untouched and he retraced the steps he once took, clearing away the animal bones and grime which was practically becoming part of the chamber. The door with serpents etched into it remained open, from the last time, so he carried on.

 

He'd forgotten just how magnificent the chamber was. Then again he didn't have much time to appreciate it nor the desire to, as he was busy fighting for his life.

 

Seeing the corpse of Aela still as it was when he was 12, not to mention not rotting, he was momentarily surprised, until he thought.

 

_**"Aela, does the chamber have preservation magic?"** _

 

_**"Yesss, it does. However I am with you in a sense, my body** **detectsss** **that and still** **clingsss** **to some form of life, even if not physically. I'm looking forward to being in my own body once more."** _

 

Repeat the very words which Tom Riddle uttered, that's what Aela had told him to do.

 

 _ **"Do I need to be doing anything else in the meantime?"**_   He asked, still observing what was soon to be an ex-corpse.

 

_**"No. While the phrassse is tied to my first masster since I no longer inhabit a body and it'sss usually used to summon me, the plan is I will return to my body instead. I hope."** _

 

 _ **"You hope?"**_   He was slightly nervous.

 

 _ **"I'm not ssure if it will work."**   _She admitted. _**"Nothing like thisss has ever happened before."**_

 

He sighed, not for the first time and certainly not for the last either, thinking why couldn't his life ever be straight cut?

 

 **"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four,"** Harry spoke firmly, his voice filling the chamber with certainty.

 

At first, he didn't think it had worked until a thin thread of magic coming from the corpses' throat connected, exactly where the Fang had penetrated him. It burned a spot through his robes, avoiding the armor and making contact with his skin. He thought he'd be in for a world of pain but instead, was met with an insistent tugging. It was unnerving but by no means painful. Much like a bead on a chain, magic encouraged it, following the thread inside. It snapped all of a sudden and with it was a sharp pain, however, he didn't even have the chance to yelp before it was gone.

 

_'Everything alright Harry?'_

 

He blinked once, twice, his brain gaining some clarity. One day, he would remember that someone could mentally contact him and see the colour of his emotions. Once his life had settled down, that was.

 

 _'Everything is as good as it can be, why?'_   He wondered, curious.

 

 _'It's just that your emotions are a veritable rainbow, I don't quite know what to make of it. You are in good health and you still have all of your vital body parts, yes?'_   Harry could sense the joking tone through their link, laced with some seriousness. How he could tell that he didn't know, as mental speak wasn't the same as physical, but it seemed instinctual.

 

 _'Actually, I think I might have lost a toe in one of the corridors.'_   He stifled a snicker.

 

 _'Ah, I see. No doubt Ser Sunshine has found it.'_   Harry could practically feel Alistair's eyes gleam in amusement.

 

_'Ser Sunshine, dare I ask?'_

 

 _'Why dear Professor Snape, of course. Who else among us members of staff has such a constantly cheery disposition, designed to set any mortal and immortal at ease?'_   An image flitted through his mind, Alistair's white-fanged grin and following it, a flash of Professor Snape, dancing in a field reminiscent of the Sound of Music.

 

Choking on a laugh his lips trembled. _'Not just me, but many other students would pay to see you call him that in public.'_

 

 _'Perhaps that could be arranged. He has taken a liking to me I believe.'_   Somehow. Harry didn't think Alistair was being entirely truthful.

 

 _'Well, he won't if you do that. But please, unless you value what friendship you've managed to scrape from him, make us all happy.'_ After constant torment from the man, most which he'd say he didn't deserve, he'd like to at least see that much, a sight he could lock away in his memory for eternity, the one time where Snape has no idea how to handle a situation.

 

A tinkling laugh was his response. _'I shall let you continue what you were doing. I will see you in class later, you are with me for a double lesson first thing in the morning.'_   A brief flicker of a warm smile, tinged with something else. Excitement? Enthusiasm? It was a little hazy in his mind.

 

In response, he couldn't stop his stomach giving a lurch in excitement, even if he wanted to. He would be lying if he said it was purely because DADA was his favourite subject.

 

 _'Ok, I'll see you later.'_   He sent a mental image of a waving hand. All of this conversation had happened while most of his attention was on Aela. The wound she'd gained from him had started to close, little by little. Dried blood returned to the body it once inhabited. Now Aela had left his body, it felt very much like 2 roommates sharing an apartment, and one shifted to another apartment if he had to put into simple terms. There was just more room.

 

She was still on her back but slowly, once, twice, her eyes blinked. The dull glassy colour was replaced by their usual vibrancy, a one out of instinct he looked away from.

 

_**"Do not fear Harry. My gaze will not harm you. We sshare a bond. Though created by accident it gives you some degree of immunity. While I am confident you won't be harmed by my gaze, I cannot sssay the ssame for another of my kind not related to me directly."** _

 

Slowly he met her gaze, as she righted herself, coiling comfortably until her head was rested on the highest one.

 

He had the irrational thought that like this, she was rather cute.

 

Unconsciously, his eyes started changing to the thick mercury colour of Lume until he managed to stop himself. Well then, that thought didn't come from him.

 

 _"Well, she is rather attractive,"_   Lume muttered, sounding apologetic.

 

He shook his head in exasperation, looking at the spot in his arm left by the thread of magic as he saw his tattoo pass by, to rest in the original position on his arm.

 

 _ **"Thank you for releasing me at last,"**_   He looked up at her hissed voice. _**"Follow me, there is something that I wish to show you."** _ Approaching the statue of Slytherin, Aela bumped it with her nose and at her touch, it opened. All that was left for him to do was follow inside, all the while he kept checking the time. It wouldn't do for him to give Dumbledore a reason to see him in his office, though no doubt a summons would come sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write with an ear infection is certainly a challenge, I've had little to no sleep because boy does it hurt. But it does distract me from the pain at least.


	50. His Snitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry says goodbye to Lume and Thanatos, at least in the physical sense. Afterwards, in the shower, he finds his thoughts straying to a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 chapters, I kind of can't believe I've done so many and I've managed to stick to the schedule since last year O.O

Contrary to his expectations, the inside of the statue was smooth and well lit, the deeper inside he travelled. More often than not these days, he chose not to question the logic of some things and instead chalked it down to magic.

 

As Aela came to a stop, he looked around the room in interest. There looked to be just this one room, as other paths which split were there for Aela to use, perhaps leading to other parts of the castle. There were a few bookshelves that he could see, filled with tomes and while that was something he'd definitely look into and perhaps take a few with him, that wasn't what caught his interest.

 

Aela was halfway into one of her shortcuts, her large head peeking out.

 

 _ **"Thisss iss the entrance to lost soulsss. I'm unsure if there are human soulsss, but the soulss of animalss long gone and animalsss themsselvess ressside here. Perhapss soulss included of part creature are there, but in my travelsss, I have only ever encountered oness sssuch ass your animal travelling companionsss and other creaturess who are lost. Perhapsss with your creature connection you'll be able to sstay there for a longer period of time, but it'ss probably besst to not sstay long. I called thiss to your attention asss there may be ssouls who can offer you assistance with the challengess ahead."**   _She gave a kind of shrug, as least from what Harry could tell, but it was what he interpreted as. _**"Do with it what you will."**_

 

Looking down at the floor, Harry was faced with a large circular stone pad, triangles etched into the surface. In the middle was another circle, made from something which he couldn't identify, but it took his eyes a moment to get used to, as a radiant golden light coming from it brightened what would otherwise be a dark room. Maybe this light brightened all the paths slightly, it was certainly strong enough.

 

 _'Ah, it's time for us to depart. You'll still be able to converse with us within your mind, however, worry not. So really, it's just a physical goodbye.'_   Lume sent a sharp fanged grin.

 

 _'I bid you farewell. It is time for our souls to seek companionship in the world beyond this one, But we will always remain a part of you, just not present in current thoughts.'_   Thanatos informed him.

 

"Alright guys, do you need..help?" He wasn't sure how to phrase it, as the more he thought on 2 extra souls leaving his body, the more the concept of it became slightly disconcerting.

 

 _'Simply breathe in and out, calmly. We'll do the rest!'_   A spark of excitement entered Lume's eyes. At last, now that their job was done, they could move on.

 

Harry did as asked, breathing in and out deeply. As he exhaled, 2 small balls of light floated on his warm breath, to softly land in the centre of the circle. It rippled, much like a droplet of water in a pool, until they faded below the surface, smooth once again.

 

"Well, that's certainly something." He mused, frowning slightly. This was something he'd have to look into. He may employ the skills of Hermione, master researcher. Or his animagi might know something more. As it was, more time had passed than he'd realised, though there was still enough of it to return to his common room for what he needed. So much had happened already and it hadn't even been a full day. He'd have to return here and explore the chamber a little more and then the Room of Requirement so that Luna, Hermione and Ginny could find out more about how to use the weapons gifted to them and their role.

 

 _'Bugger using the time turner for more lessons, I need one to fit all the madness into my life smoothly.'_   Shaking his head in amusement, he went over to give Aela an affectionate pat, which she rubbed her head into, like a very large and scaly cat.

 

Lume wasn't influencing his thoughts, he truly did find that cute.

 

**"Thanks, Aela, it's good to see you physically. Don't worry, the noseless one will pay for doing what he did to you."**

 

She inclined her head, features not giving anything away but instinctually he knew she'd smile if she could. _**"I look forward to it. I'll sssee you later."**_   With that, she passed through the portal to the soul world, most likely off to seek some sort of companionship, much like his now outer animagi.

 

Now that she was gone, it was time for him to leave too. Being as careful as he was now, he wondered how he'd survived these past few years. Perhaps all the times he'd spent under cover of night sneaking around the castle, Dumbledore knew when and where? The possibility of this was high and as that thought struck, he suddenly became hyper alert of his surroundings. Now that he had access to magic detection there was no need to worry about locating someone in the dark, though naturally, it wouldn't cover for his own sight or objects in the way. Since he'd masked his magical power, the old fool would be none the wiser that he'd changed as much as he had. While Dumbledore would be aware that at least one magical block was gone, there'd be no way of him knowing if they were all gone as despite having them removed, magic always left its mark. He'd been unwillingly and unknowingly under the spells of Dumbledore for so long, that there was no way to distinguish between them. At least, that was his theory. His time in the library with Alistair and what research he'd conducted at home allowed him to come to his own conclusions. They may be right, they may be wrong. What mattered to him was that he now had the freedom to think this way.

 

That last thought caused a breath to catch in his throat as he choked on hysterical laughter. He wasn't sure why as it had been a short while, but it was only now, as he was walking the halls of Hogwarts back to his common room, that he realised he was free. True he wasn't entirely free, Dumbledore was still around and ever more determined to get him back under control no doubt, not to mention the prophecy and Voldemort, but everything else, including The Dursleys, was gone. He was still chained, but not restricted. One day, those chains would fall from him.

 

Sighing softly, he whispered the password to the portrait, entering the common room. If anyone was awake, they'd left already, as no one occupied the room. He returned to the dormitory, soft snores indicating that he was the only one awake. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he located a shower stall.

 

He did consider showering before he left for the chamber, however, he did plan to return before it was time to head to the Great Hall. That and it would only mean him retaining any leftover grime which a scourgify couldn't remove.

 

He let the hot water wash over his body, as always relishing in the fact that he could pretty much take as long as he needed and as he did, he couldn't help but admire his body. Immediately after, he winced. Ugh, it made him sound like Lockhart.

 

After so many years of being underweight and below average height for his age, it was nice to feel confident in himself and his looks for once. While he'd never be pure muscle, his abs were still defined and toned from Quidditch practice, further strengthened from his time spent in the Requirement Closet. Although the downside was it gave more people a reason to stare, at least it wasn't for an unpleasant reason.

 

As he rinsed the suds from his body, his thoughts strayed to Alistair. In the Library that time, he could tell Alistair was very well defined. He wondered, just how much...

 

"Down boy." He muttered, flustered as a light blush stained his cheeks, shaking his head in some vain hope that the thoughts would fly like the droplets of water from his hair. Now was not the time to think what Alistair would look like with less clothing than usual.

 

 _'That would be my snitch caught for the day.'_   The teen side of Harry's brain kicked in and if it took physical form, no doubt wiggling his eyebrows.

 

The thrill of the chase and then the catch, the undeniable victory once it was in his grasp, the bubbling sense of happiness that he'd helped to lead his team to victory once more. Was he really comparing seeing Alistair in all his unclothed glory to his role in Quidditch?

 

Surprisingly, he couldn't even protest. In the first place, it would be worrying if he started disagreeing with his mental voices, the student body already thought he was insane, he didn't need to fuel the fire any.

 

The soft pink colour of the gems on his bracelet caught his attention. It was pleasant to look at and he was still unsure of what the colours represented, though he supposed it was something he could learn in time. He hadn't removed the bracelet since he was given it, unwilling to take it off even for a moment. He had an unexplainable attachment to it.

 

Figuring he'd spent long enough in the shower, Harry dried himself off, semi-naked and redressing himself when he felt sets of eyes on his back. Turning around, he was met with the wide-eyed stares of Neville, Dean and Seamus. Ron was still sleeping.

 

"Where's our Harry and what have you done with him?" Seamus raised an eyebrow, whistling as Dean nodded in silent agreement.

 

Casually rolling his eyes, he put on the clothing he'd discarded earlier, smoothing out the wrinkles. "He's dead. This is the new Harry." He fixed them with a serious gaze, clearer than ever without his glasses.

 

"Hello, new Harry." Neville jokingly stuck out his hand and obliging, Harry shook it.

 

"I'm going to the hall Nev, I'll save you a seat."

 

"Ok, thanks." Neville headed for the showers, sighing as he looked at Ron. At this rate, he would be late, but it wasn't his responsibility in life to be someone else's alarm clock, so he simply left him to it.

 

Harry took his time, appreciating that most of the student body didn't arrive until at least half an hour before lessons start, so he could sit where he liked.

 

"Morning Nick." He greeted him as the ghost floated by.

 

"Ah Harry, you're looking well I see." He bowed his head in acknowledgement, excusing himself. He looked to be in a bit of a hurry so he simply passed on by, entering through the already opened doors, selecting a seat closer to the head table. Happily tucking into a breakfast which would have never seen the light of day with his previous malnourished self, he waited for the rest of his friends to arrive.


	51. Chipped Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron Weasley learns to never insult someone else who Harry considers a friend. Not unless he wants to make it out with his trousers intact.

As students started to arrive by the dozen, he spotted Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, so he waved them over.

 

"Morning, sleep well?" He asked, eyeing a sausage speared on his fork with great enthusiasm.

 

As he listened to variations of yes, he saw Luna about to head for her own table and gestured to wait. "Sit here with us, nothing in the rules says that we can't invite students from other houses to our table." He nearly smirked at Hermione's expression, no doubt going over the rules then nodding silently.

 

Eyes glittering, she practically bounced over to take a seat next to Neville and Ginny opposite Harry, Hermione on his right side. He was well aware of the stares but unmindful of them, more than used to it for various reasons. 

 

"What's your next class Luna?" He smiled softly at how happy she looked, regretful that none of them had offered before now. But then again, this Hogwarts year was a year of changes. He noticed that she'd added a flower in her hair, which looked like one of the Orchids in 'Lunaland.'

 

"Potions," She commented lightly, an ever so slight furrow between her brows. "Professor Snape isn't happy. I've never seen so many Nargles attracted to one person."

 

Curious, Harry glanced over and immediately winced, glad that he didn't have Potions today and didn't envy Luna in the slightest. Snape had a scowl so deeply etched into his face, it reminded him of gnarled trees with rough bark. The source of his scowl looked to be Alistair, who had decided to take a seat next to him. As if Alistair knew Harry was looking at him, he made eye contact for a brief moment, only to mouth the words, _'Ser Sunshine.'_

 

The piece of sausage which he was just about to chew suddenly flew out of his mouth with great force, as he snorted loudly. It narrowly missed Neville who ducked out of the way, but it vanished in mid air before it could hit the floor.

 

"Sorry." He restrained another snort. "Something funny came to mind."

 

"No problem." Neville chuckled. "It's the first time I've seen a sausage become a possible weapon."

 

"Maybe I should bring one with me the next time I face Voldy." He mused, stroking his chin like a master villain. "He says I'm too predictable, I think chucking a sausage at his head is thinking outside of the box. Might give him a shock."

 

"Really Harry." Hermione rolled her eyes, one side of her mouth curled in a smile as Ginny and Neville descended into laughter.

 

"Where's the party?" A familiar and unpleasant voice asked as he sat down on Harry's left side.

 

Turning his head, Harry blinked a few times. Ron looked like a stampeding herd of Hippogryffs had run over him.

 

It was probably the late detention's fault, but he hadn't even bothered to straighten out his uniform, it just looked like he'd rolled straight out of bed.

 

Suddenly Ron's eyes found Luna's and he exclaimed loud enough for the whole of Scotland to hear, "What's loony sat at our table for?"

 

"Ronald!"

 

"Ow!"

 

A Stinging Hex was sent his way by Hermione.

 

"Herm, that huurt." He whined, sounding half his age, rubbing the spot it hit.

 

"Don't even start Ron. You know I'd do worse." Ginny's eyes locked with his, narrowing dangerously as she twirled her wand menacingly.

 

What he didn't expect, when he turned to look at his best mate, was to be met with eyes colder than Voldemort himself.

 

The students outside of the group's vicinity passed it off as a bit of a draught. After all, they were in a castle and castles were often draughty. But Luna, Neville, Ginny, Hermione and Ron knew that it was much more. Harry himself, didn't seem to be aware.

 

Ron wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Harry's eyes, a vibrant shade of green looked darker, flecks of acid throughout his irises which really did feel as though they were burning into him. In contrast, the magic around him and the air itself chilled. It was only thanks to Harry hiding his power that the entire hall wasn't affected by his icy rage. As it was, time seemed to stop. It was Harry and Ron in that moment and no one else. After a moment he spoke, the words shocking Ron as if he'd been drenched with a bucket of water.

 

"Never use that name for Luna. This is a warning. If you do it again, I may not be responsible for my actions. Understand?" Unknowingly in that moment, Harry was so intimidating to Ron despite their height difference, he almost put Snape to shame. He nodded shakily in response, focusing his attention on the heap of food which looked ready to collapse, the air thick with tension. No one really knew what to say. Well, all except Luna, who was happily making Butterbeer cork necklaces, for who he didn't know, occasionally taking a bite out of her lemon curd on toast.

 

"Morning Harry!" A cheerful voice piped up behind him and he was greeted with a perky Lilah, Dominic beside her. They exchanged brief eye contact in acknowledgement, then he turned to greet her.

 

"Morning Lilah, all ready for your first day at Hogwarts?" As Hermione watched the exchange, a tender smile appeared on his face. It was nice to see, as the last time she'd seen a smile such as this was when Sirius was alive. After that, she didn't see him smile like that anymore.

 

"Yes!" She piped up enthusiastically. "I'm looking forward to Defence Against The Dark Arts, It'll be so cool."

 

"My favourite subject," He grimaced slightly. "You're lucky you came this year, we've had mainly horrible Defence Professors, but I have high hopes for this one. Knock it out of the park yeah? If you need any help you can ask me."

 

"Thanks, Harry." A shy smile in response. "I'll do my best."

 

It was looking at her now that Harry realised something was wrong. She was very pale. He'd noted that she had fair skin, to begin with, but it was unnaturally so. "Are you feeling ok?" He asked, eyes scrutinising her.

 

"I'm fine." She gave him a reassuring smile, giving a brief wave in farewell as she went to find a seat. Ah, how often had he said that and the opposite was the case? He couldn't help but feel concerned but trusted her. He'd keep an eye out when he could.

 

"It's about time we headed off anyway," Ginny spoke up, confident enough to break the silence since Harry's conversation with the first year seemed to have cleared the air somewhat.

 

"See you later Luna." The four minus Ron, who was still sulking, wished her luck on surviving with Snape. Harry hoped that one of those necklaces wasn't for him, he didn't want his friend returned to him in several jars.

 

The 4 of them left for Defence, Harry wondering what Alistair had in store.

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair was keeping the delightful Severus company, along with the special smile he had just for him. Well, it looked more like a frown to but who could ever be unhappy with his presence? He just needed to train his facial muscles more. While he did serve a purpose in being here, he decided to make his personal mission dedicated to making Ser Sunshine smile.

 

He'd watched the proceedings from his seat, paying particular attention to Harry's confrontation with Ronald. Really, what was that boy thinking? While he understood that Harry had masked his power using some variation of spell, it didn't quite work for him. He was unsure if Dumbledore had taken notice so figuratively speaking, he dipped his toe into the cool waters of his mind, only seeking out what he needed to. While he was confident his mind arts were strong enough, they were by no means his strongest point so it couldn't hurt to be cautious. Apparently, he didn't suspect a thing and mentally, he sighed in relief.

 

He also had his eye on the young girl speaking with Harry. There was something about her he couldn't put his finger on. It wasn't a bad thing by any means, he just had the gut feeling to watch over her, which left him slightly confused, a state he didn't often find himself in.

 

"Ah my dear Severus, I'm afraid I shall have to take my leave." He finished, genuinely sounding sad.

 

"Oh, what a shame." Sneering, he stabbed his fork rather viciously into a poached egg.

 

Unaware of the sarcasm or aware and choosing to ignore it, Alistair gave a one-sided grin, his canines looking like regular incisors. "Have a wonderfully fulfilling day, Ser Sunshine."

 

Severus ignored what suspiciously sounded like a hastily muffled laugh by Minerva and the giggles from Filius, not even given the chance to snap at him for the ridiculous name before he'd disappeared, quicker than they could register.

 

* * *

 

 

Watching the backs of Harry and his friends leave, Lilah silently sighed to herself. If people were noticing her appearance, she really must look bad. She was very excited to receive an invite to Hogwarts, but she was anxious about more than being able to fit in. It was going to be difficult, but she was determined to see things through, no matter the state she could end up. It would work out alright in the end, it always did. Giving a mental pep talk, Lilah attended her first class of Hogwarts, Charms with Professor Flitwick.

 

While Lilah was still at the back of his mind, the rest of it was occupied with anticipation of what Professor Lothaire had in store for them all.

 

He also wondered what it was like for him to teach here. All of the staff as far as he knew had attended Hogwarts at some point. They'd grown and matured with the house rivalry, accepting it as a way of life. He'd never attended Hogwarts so house rivalry wasn't ingrained into his system like most of the staff and students here. It made him wonder how he'd deal with the situation.

 

Without fail, Dumbledore always placed Gryffindor with Slytherin. He wasn't sure what his motive behind that was, however, he was half convinced he was waiting for them to kill each other off so he could swoop in and claim the victor.

 

Truthfully and genuinely, he would try to get on with the Slytherins. He'd already made progress with Malfoy, it wouldn't hurt to try and keep things civil with others members of the house as well.

 

Arriving outside of the door, they could all see that it was open and Harry poked his head through, looking around.

 

"No need to wait, come straight in." an enthusiastic voice called out.


	52. Professor Lothaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group of 4 arrive to a completely changed classroom, pleasantly surprised by their new Professor's introduction to his class. But one student isn't too happy about what Professor Lothaire has planned.

One by one they filed in, looking around curiously at the changed classroom. At first Harry thought he'd entered the Room of Requirement, however, the stone walls were still there. The windows were letting in a lot of sunlight, brightening the place up. long blades of grass coated the floor and as Harry scuffed it with his feet, the soil moved. It must be a high-level illusion charm for the room to resemble a forest setting. There were even a few birds sitting on one of the tree branches. A room expansion charm also? Both he and Hermione were already going over what spells were used. Any tension in his body drained, feeling comfortable in a setting which didn't remotely remind him of a classroom. He couldn't help but think that once they had his class, Ginny and Luna would enjoy this. Unless of course, he had something slightly different planned for each year.

 

"Hello!" Harry looked towards the back of a room where a simple chair which looked to be made of intertwining branches polished to a smooth shine and surface was resting on the grass. There the professor sat, one leg crossed casually over the other, a friendly smile on his face. "May I ask your names?" He stood up, approaching the group.

 

"Hermione Granger, Sir." She inclined her head politely, her eyes practically screaming, _'Share your knowledge with me.'_   He gave her a pleasant smile, eyes sparkling as he could sense her curiosity and in response, he held his hand out for her to shake, which she did.

 

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. Pick any spot you like and make yourself comfortable." He tucked his braid behind one ear as an unconscious gesture. Harry's eyes followed his movements for a moment until he visibly shook himself to regain concentration.

 

"Neville Longbottom." In contrast to the painfully shy boy Neville once was years ago, he stood before Alistair, confidently holding his hand out and as before, asked Neville to pick a spot he liked.

 

"Ron Weasley." He mumbled, awkwardly sticking his hand out. He looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but in this room. It was only for a moment and Harry may have imagined it, but what looked like displeasure flashed across Alistair's expression but once he looked again, he was his usual charming self.

 

Then, it was Harry's turn. The last time they went to shake hands briefly popped into Harry's mind and he had to fight a rising blush. That is until a mischevious voice entered his head.

 

 _'Ah, how I wish I could once more kiss your hand instead of shaking it, but whatever would your friends say? I shall save such actions for when others are not around.'_   A single wink.

 

Harry was impressed he managed to keep his composure, particularly since his thoughts were filled with that single kiss. He practically kicked those thoughts out of his mind, clearing them for the lesson ahead. They had all chosen to sit close to one another and as they watched, Professor Lothaire stood beside the open doorway, asking for each student's name, greeting them and then asking to choose a spot they liked. It was a unique approach to a first lesson, one Harry felt that the students would be talking about throughout the day no doubt.

 

There was a visible divide in the room. Not one Gryffindor sat near a Slytherin, not one Slytherin sat near a Gryffindor. On the left a sea of red, on the right a shower of green. It summed up house relations perfectly, in his opinion. While he was sure there were a few Gryffindor/Slytherin friendships or possibly even relationships, no one was brave enough to break what 'always had been' to be with the ones they formed bonds with. Even for him, he didn't think twice to sit near his friends, mainly because he hadn't even tried to get to know many others outside of his own house. His eyes wandered to Malfoy who, to his credit, didn't look out of place at all on the grass. If anything, he looked to be just as comfortable as Harry himself was, from what he could read of his expression.

 

"Good morning to you all." Instantly, he had the attention of his class. "I am Alistair Lothaire and I will be your Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor this year." His impeccable hearing picked up on student's whispers of how long he would last. Of course, he was aware that the position was cursed by one Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, it was just a matter of breaking it. He was unsure if others had tried or had simply accepted it and did nothing, but either way, he intended to try and find the root of the problem. "I have heard about how unstable your Professors have been in teaching you all thoroughly with the odd exception. I intend to correct the wrong done to you all."

 

"Wrong, sir?" A voice spoke up. He located the student and nodded firmly.

 

"Yes, Mr Zabini. A wrong not only to you who are in this room but all of the students who have passed through these halls over decades. There is war. Not just in this country, but across the world. Not providing the next generation of students with a way to defend themselves that would put most Aurors to shame is an injustice."

 

Doubt showed on more than one face. He nodded in understanding. "Words are all well and true, however they can be broken and twisted in a myriad of ways. I give you a promise not through my words, but my actions." The belief and passion put into his words were backed up by the fierceness of his eyes, which seemed to see through to everyone.

 

Many students breathed out, unaware that they'd held their breath for the duration of Professor Lothaire's speech. After Umbridge, many were happy to see someone who appeared to be genuine in wanting to teach them all they could. Only time would tell if he delivered upon his promise.

 

A warm feeling blossomed in Harry's heart. Just when he thought he couldn't grow any fonder of the man. Every word he spoke resonated, having a profound impact on more than just him. Neville looked on in approval, Hermione was just as enraptured as he was. Malfoy looked to be in deep thought and hell, even Crabbe and Goyle looked aware of their surroundings and wasn't that a miracle?

 

Alistair was wearing thick robes, not teaching ones by any means. However, he removed them until he was left standing in simple black trousers and a long sleeved buttoned shirt, plum coloured. In Harry's opinion, he could wear a regular tank top and shorts and would still be able to pull them off. He heard feminine and a couple of masculine sighs of admiration at his obviously toned form and he had to stop himself from joining them. One or two of the males in the room glaring at Alistair for bringing new competition.

 

Alistair placed the robes on the chair behind him. "Today will be something simple, but important. Not necessarily the task which I give you, but who you will be working with. Outside of the school walls and in the outside world. How you communicate and work with others could mean the difference between life and death." His tone conveyed all seriousness, still clearly through the brown coloured disguise of his eyes. "How all of you have chosen to sit with your house says more to me than words ever could. So today, each of you will be working with someone, not of your house."

 

Incredulous voices spread throughout the room, wondering if he was like Dumbledore and actually wanted them to kill each other off. While all that was happening, Harry managed to lock eyes with Malfoy, giving him a significant look. After a few moments of grey locking with green, he gave a short sharp nod.

 

"Decide pairs amongst yourselves. For those of you who are unable to decide, I will choose for you." He spoke calmly, his quieter yet self-assured voice slicing through protests. With the exception of Harry who now stood next to Malfoy and Hermione who had cautiously approached Millicent, everyone else seemed unsure of who to pair with. It was understandable really, pairing Gryffindor with Slytherin was much like poking a sleeping dragon, it was easier to let it sleep than to disturb its rest. The new Professor, however, seemed quite content to tickle said dragon with a feather.

 

After a few minutes, Order had been restored to the room and most of the class were in a Gryffindor/Slytherin pair. All except for a few.

 

There was an even number of students in the class. Ron, Neville, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass were left. While Neville was happy with either, it was Ron who was halting all progress. Silently they all stood and watched as Ron's complexion quickly matched the fieriness of his hair, Harry wondering what trouble he would land himself in this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's Alistair doing so far? I really wanted to get his personality and passion across but without him looking unprofessional, so a balance, maybe :P As much as I adore Remus, he's my favourite canon character, I'll try my best for Alistair to at least match his teaching game xD


	53. One Foot in the Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seemed as though with every situation, Ron was digging himself into a deeper hole. Harry was more than happy to standby and watch how things would play out. How would Professor Lothaire handle him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: The students are greeted by an unfamiliar classroom setting, along with a unique way for their new Professor to begin his introduction to the class. That and he expected them all to work in Gryffindor/Slytherin pairings?

"Mr Weasley, who do you wish to work with, Miss Greengrass or Mr Zabini?" He asked, tilting his head slightly in question and not for the first time, grateful for his age and self-control, even more tightly reigned in since Solomon's disappearance due to necessity.

 

"None of them. They're both slimy Slytherin scum!" Sneering, his eyes expressed how much distaste he held for everything which wasn't Gryffindor. Harry was sure if he was here, Snape would give him detention for a disgraceful sneer. The thought filled him with mirth, even if at the same time he came to the conclusion that Ron's siblings had inherited the family's brains and he was simply left with the dregs, much like what Snape himself had said the other day. He was saddened that he'd spent so much time with a childish, selfish and prejudiced person.

 

"If you won't choose, I shall. I am giving you the chance to be a responsible member of the class. Today's task requires that you work with a member of Slytherin house." He explained once more, patiently. The class was impressed that the Professor hadn't hexed him 5 ways to Sunday.

 

"But they're evil, they're the enemy! Death Eater scum who lick the boots of You-Know-Who and you want me to work with one of them?" He raised his voice incredulously, in disbelief that he was in this situation, to begin with.

 

"My family have remained neutral for centuries," Daphne spoke, her chilling blue eyes shooting daggers at Ron.

 

"You're all at his beck and call." He eyed her, grimacing. "I bet you're one of his whores, sleeping with him for favours. You make me sick."

 

Daphne put her years of Occlumency training to the test, hiding her silent rage in the very depths of her mind. It was in Gryffindor's nature to rush in without thinking. However, she would say nothing and do nothing in this room. What happened outside, she would decide upon. Blaise and Daphne made brief eye contact, one look saying more than words ever could. Ronald Weasley would pay for such a comment. Blaise valued Daphne as not just a member of his house, but as a friend. Slytherin protects their own. You wage a war on one, you waged a war on all. People like Ron were the very reason why Gryffindor/Slytherin tensions were at an all-time high.

 

Harry knew Ron hated Slytherin, but to go that far? While Slytherin was angry at his comments, there were a few Gryffindors not happy either.

 

But, it was Alistair that beat them all. Even Harry.

 

It was as though the room had filled with a sudden heatwave. Even the breeze as a part of the room turned warm and humid. His expression caused Harry a degree of discomfort. He could never be afraid or uncomfortable around the man himself, however, he'd seen nothing but smiles, laughter and sometimes sadness. This anger to him was more dangerous than Snape's. What you saw with Snape was what you got. His overall personality when he wasn't in a mood didn't change that drastically. But with Alistair who has such a charming and cheery disposition, it affected Harry far more than Snape ever could.

 

He was sure that if his eyes were their usual beautiful sunset colour, they would bubble and boil like lava about to erupt from a volcano. His eyebrows, usually so finely arched were drawn in a slight frown. It's not that his expression was intimidating like Snape's, on the contrary. It was as though he was annoyed by something simple, nothing special. Harry got the feeling that his expression had the potential to be far greater, more terrifying. It was the amount of control Alistair had to make it look as though he was just irritated when instead he was most likely furious which impressed Harry. But if there was one thing he couldn't deny, it was Alistair looked undeniably attractive, even when not in his usual mood. He was heating up from more than the man's aura, that he was sure of.

 

"Mr Weasley." Alistair's tone of voice remained level, but the warmth wasn't present. A lot of the students had taken to casting cooling charms, some removing their robes altogether, Harry included.

 

Ron narrowed his eyes, about to raise his voice at the Professor as he turned around but the words caught in his throat. Something told him that further words wouldn't be wise and for once, common sense and a dashing of self-preservation kicked in.

 

Not even 1,000 plus years of roaming the earth, could Alistair not react to such a disrespectful comment. Perhaps others would see him as old-fashioned in some ways, but he'd always treated women with respect, even if their profession did turn out to be a specialisation in the pleasures of the flesh. He treated men with the same respect too. In fact, he treated everyone how he would like to be unless they prove they were not worthy of his kindness, as the case sometimes came to be. Faced with prejudice for what he is for so long, he always ensured to listen to all that he could before deciding upon something. While like many, he couldn't help what his first impressions were of someone, thinking and acting were two entirely different things.

 

To hear someone so young speak of a peer with the intention to harm due to his own ignorance was something which he couldn't allow to slide, particularly since the person in question was pure. It was easier to tell with females than males. Their magic usually became more wild and vibrant in colour, but the easiest way to tell was through blood. Pure women's blood had a sweeter scent in the air but once intercourse had taken place, the blood was rich, more concentrated. Even at his age, Alistair had to focus on nothing but the person to tell by blood, but it was a surer way than by magic, as puberty or magical maturity affected a Witch or Wizard's magical core as well.

 

"Not only are you highly disrespectful to Miss Greengrass, but to the house, she belongs in. There is no evidence to back up what you claim. Even if there were, nothing gives you the right to treat a lady in such a way. This class is to help promote teamwork, as there will be situations where you will have to cooperate and work with strangers or those you know and dislike in order to succeed. This is a lesson you should learn sooner rather than later."

 

He paused, not letting his expression descend into Ser Sunshine's level of frowning, though he was beginning to understand why such an expression seemed at home on his face. He didn't want to be this kind of Professor or even remotely strict, however, this child, for he surely wasn't a man was the first to test his patience in such a way. It honestly pained him to do so, as he truly wanted to use this opportunity to prove to the students that he was able to teach them well. He hoped that he would prove a point, despite his reluctance to take such measures. Secretly though, he didn't mind at all that it happened to be Mr Weasley that would prove said point.

 

"10 points from Gryffindor for verbally abusing a member of Slytherin house and 5 for refusal to follow instructions. You will have detention with me tonight and I shall inform Professor McGonagall of your behaviour." He maintained eye contact with him, even when Ron averted his own.

 

"You can't do that!" He protested, arms flailing as though he were mimicking a windmill. At this point, Harry once would have swooped in and physically shut his mouth. But now, he was happily watching Ron digging his own grave. Unknown to the pair of them, Harry and Malfoy had identical smirks on their faces and Hermione was half tempted to obliviate herself of the fact that she was friends with Ron for most of her school life. She was confident she could do it correctly, as her wand was in perfect working order, unlike Ron's with Lockhart.

 

"I can and I will, Mr Weasley." He replied sternly. "If you choose to continue the way you are, you will leave the classroom. I would like you to stay, though. There is a lot I can teach you."

 

"I have detention with Snape tonight," Ron muttered sullenly.

 

"For how long?" He was there when it happened of course, but he didn't know the specifics.

 

"Monday to Friday every week until he thinks I've learned my lesson." It wasn't fair in Ron's opinion. No one else was getting as many detentions as him.

 

"Then I will see you Saturday at 7 pm." His tone of voice indicated this was his final word.

 

"It's a bloody weekend, THAT'S NOT FAIR!" the damn on his temper finally released as he screamed full force, Some members of the class wondering if his head would explode.

 

"Mr Weasley, report to Professor McGonagall immediately and tell her that I have sent you. If you don't, I shall know." He withheld a sigh. He needed to continue with the lesson he'd planned. 

 

Ron wasted no time. As the room finally cooled down, he picked up his bag and left the class, slamming the door behind him.

 

The class erupted into spontaneous applause, a few shouts here and there. Harry joined in with the whistling and even Hermione clapped. He dealt with Ron as though he'd put up with him for years and most importantly, he wasn't showing favouritism to any particular house.

 

Alistair couldn't prevent the surprised expression on his face even if he wanted to.

 

He addressed the students still without a pairing. "You have my apologies. Mr Longbottom, will you work with Mr Zabini?" 

 

"Yes Sir," Neville said simply, eager to find out what the Professor had in-store after that display.

 

"Miss Greengrass, since who should have been your partner seems to have abandoned all sense as well as the classroom, you can pair with me. I am not a member of any house, however, I am an outsider, one of many other outsiders who of which you may find yourself working with. Is that alright?"

 

She was unsure what to think of her new Professor when she was met with a handshake before she'd even fully entered the room. His introduction had piqued her interest, but his harsh dealing, at least by regular standards, impressed her. Not even McGonagall, whether it was knowingly or not, was able to not go easier on her house than Slytherin. He'd earned her grudging respect, the only one more so being her head of house, though it was evident he didn't attend Hogwarts. Perhaps in that way, it would help for more effective teaching. She was curious, however, to see what he'd do if a member of Slytherin house didn't cooperate.

 

"Of course." Her cool gaze assessed him. She could see he was a formidable fighter and she would benefit learning from him.

 

He gave her a genuine smile, turning to address the rest of the class, who had now quietened down. "What I would like for you all to do is simple. I assume you are aware of the elements and spells associated with them?" He was rewarded with several nods. "One of you will incant any spells associated with the elements. The other will defend or counterattack, using an element in response, as long as it is effective. A shield of water will repel fire, for example. This task will require your full concentration and will improve reaction times. in addition, this will help you all take note of your partner's facial expressions and body language, in order to predetermine what spell they may choose next. After a short while, I will ask you to switch. Is everyone happy with the explanation?" This was a new experience for him, only really having proper conversations with his own kind. save for Harry. The various human lovers he'd had didn't really make meaningful conversation. He was more focused on allowing them to feel as happy as he could make them, though he'd hadn't found the one who could reciprocate.

 

After a few sounds of agreement, the room soon filled with the sound of spellfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the person who mentioned they had to read over the previous chapter before they could read the new one, I hope this helps! Because I can see your point :) Thoughts on Alistair? I want him to come across as a serious person when it comes to dealing with problems but still remain likable.


	54. Night vs Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Lothaire's lesson planned for the period, which some students take to like a duck to water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Ron once again overstepped the line he wasn't supposed to cross, landing himself in even more trouble. Also, Alistair starts the lesson planned for Harry's class.

Harry let loose a breath he was unaware of holding. Things were tense for a moment there.

 

"Well, Potter, let's see if we can do a simple task without wanting to murder one another." His eyes captured grey ones, alight with slight amusement.

 

"Save some of that murderous intent for Ron, I know I will be." He spoke solemnly, managing not to sigh.

 

"You? Wanting to kill Weasley? Has that scar of yours finally revealed signs of brain damage?" One fine blond eyebrow arched. While Malfoy had an excellent Poker Face, he could still feel his curiosity.

 

"This year is a year of changes, Malfoy. So, what will it be? Will I be drenching you in water or will you be setting my robes on fire?"

 

Interesting. What changes there would be, Malfoy would personally keep an eye on. "We are supposed to defend against the attack. Merlin forbid I leave you without clothing, you'd drown in your sea of admirers." Sneering, he gave a sweeping glance across one or two girls looking in their direction, who immediately flushed, looking away.

 

"Don't remind me." Grimacing, he chose to use his original wand. "I'll defend, you attack. Sound good?"

 

Already focused and adjusting his stance, he gave Harry a sharp nod.

 

No one else was in the room or occupying his thoughts. Not even Alistair which for him was a miracle as more often than not these days, he was never out of his mind. He watched every movement, every breath, a change in facial expression. He used all he'd learned and grown up with so far. While it was simply practice, he knew that outside the confines of Hogwarts, this really could make a difference.

 

While a lot of the students were shouting what they were about to cast and what they were defending with, Malfoy, to Harry's realization, could non-verbally cast. Harry could both wandlessly and non-verbally, but that wasn't something he could let slip, at least not here.

 

Making use of his surroundings, a large clump of earth was levitated and just as quickly, thrown at him. Within an instant, a thin sheen of fire covering the entire front of his body appeared, the soil disintegrating before the shield, the strange smell of burnt soil in the air.

 

Taking into consideration how simple that was, he knew instinctively that Malfoy would get more creative.

 

Silently, Harry watched as Malfoy pointed his wand vertically rather than at him, at the very tip of his wand, hovering and gradually growing in size, was water, formed into a ball. He could see his lips move this time, in what looked to be a chant. The ball, now half the size of its caster, split into several smaller balls and surrounded Harry. Malfoy jabbed his wand forward, the water balls surrounding him gradually decreasing their distance. It really was a situation, much like with other battles he'd found himself in, which required quick thinking. Air should work fine.

 

 _'Ventus.'_   Wand in a wide swirling motion, wind much like the enclosing water balls surrounded him, gradually increasing in speed and intensity until his hair was whipped around violently. Eventually, a long trail of water was left and once in front of him, continued to create a swirling pattern, until what looked like a considerably sized whirlpool made its way for Malfoy.

 

Caught off guard, he managed to save himself. Well, mostly. Narrowing his eyes, a large chunk of earth along with some grass was lifted from the ground. While that did absorb the water, it also created what was effectively sludge, hitting the ground with a wet thwack, flecks of mud spraying Malfoy's face. Harry didn't bother withholding his chuckle.

 

"New beauty regime, Malfoy? Really brings out your eyes." His tone mildly teasing.

 

Sensing no malice, he merely rolled his eyes, not bothering to cast a cleaning charm.

 

"What barbarian would spread mud across their skin?" Harry thought the conversation of mud packs could wait another day, as they mostly silently defended, attacked and occasionally rebounded spells.

 

* * *

 

While Hermione was just as focused, there wasn't much need to be in comparison to Harry and Malfoy. While Millicent was a decent fighter, it was more trading spells back and forth than an intense battle, so she was able to both keep an eye on Harry and attack Millicent. She had to give her credit though, while her spell control wasn't as tight-knit or powerful, she was very good with shielding herself. Regardless of not seeing her as much of a challenge, she took this on board as a learning experience, hoping that her partner for the lesson was gaining something from working with her. She was already debating whether to offer her an invite to the DA. It was something to consider, but only more so if they worked together and she got to know her better.

 

* * *

 

Blaise tended not to associate with Gryffindors in general, let alone this particular Gryffindor. The impression he got of him, at least according to Malfoy, was a bumbling squib who didn't know which end of his wand was the correct one. While he knew Malfoy was often all talk, he made a mental note to dismiss at least 50% of what left his mouth, as Longbottom was putting up quite the fight, often defending against spells which he was confident would get through. At one point, Longbottom controlled the earth to the point where a large flytrap looking plant sprouted from it, absorbing the large jet of water. Using the momentary surprise he felt, he was able to get a hit on Blaise in the form of his partially singed robes.

 

"A surprisingly Slytherin tactic, Longbottom." He bowed his head in acknowledgement and respect of his wand work.

 

"Thank you." Not offended in the slightest, Neville was enjoying the back and forth spells as well as the light conversation. "As a side note, the rest of the Gryffs probably have something planned for Ron as well. I doubt they'll let it slide."

 

"What about you?" Blaise asked, intrigued.

 

"Anything which our house might come up with, Slytherin will have a plan much better formed. I think it's easier to leave it to the professionals and the injured party in question." He spoke what he honestly thought.

 

"You know how we think rather well, for someone not of our house."

 

Neville smiled, slightly bashful. "The only Slytherin I've ever spoken with is Malfoy. I don't think Crabbe and Goyle's grunts count as actual conversation. Despite what he's put me through, my family isn't a history of Gryffindors by any means. I see no reason to hate everyone for what one person has done."

 

 _'More Gryffindors could do with taking a leaf out of Longbottom's book.'_   He observed his partner for the day more closely than before. He had changed, just as much as Potter, if not more so. He had the air and confidence as heir of Longbottom. He most likely had Potter himself to thank for that. Secretly, he wouldn't be averse to working with Longbottom again in the future.

 

* * *

 

As one of the students who had also chosen to remove her robes, Daphne was thankful she did for more than one reason. She was quite literally being kept on her toes by the Professor, though she knew he was holding back. While a part of her would relish the opportunity to fight against the Professor at his full strength, she also knew instinctively that he was holding back for a good reason. She had the feeling that she wouldn't last long if he did. What she wasn't sure of, however, was how much he was holding back.

 

The Sorting Hat didn't put her into Slytherin purely because of her family lineage. For the past 5 minutes, she'd been plotting and in a couple of seconds, her plan would be put into action.

 

While it was true she barely had time to think, one thing she was skilled with was the elements. Average for all of them with the exception of water. As most if not all of her housemates did, she carried a second wand. It was a simple incantation for a small rain cloud to appear above her opponent's head. However, the wand was hidden up her sleeve. With each spell, the leftover magical energy would feed it. Any second now and there would be a downpour.

 

Without any hint of arrogance and smugness and just simple fact, Alistair thought that Miss Greengrass wouldn't be a challenge at all as he had many years of experience over her. While he was only using a small portion of his strength, it was enough to give any Auror who had been in the field for a short while some competition. She used any and all means available to her, very much like the house she belonged to. While he understood she most likely relied on friends, family, and materials available to her to expand her magical knowledge rather than the Professors of this subject, he was pleasantly surprised and impressed. While he knew it wouldn't be like this every day, so far he could say teaching was an interesting and rewarding experience.

 

Neither of them was voicing their spells and both found it difficult to read their opponent's expression. In fact, it was only because Alistair was hyper-aware of his surroundings that he was able to avoid her surprise attack.

 

He was aware of the growing cloud, a part of him curious to see just how large it would grow before the rain started. His senses were highly tuned, so much so that he could pinpoint different kinds of magic, sense it in every way but touch, minus when it was placed upon objects. However, if he were the age that he appeared to be, there was a high chance that he wouldn't realize what Miss Greengrass had planned until it was too late.

 

It was an odd noise directly above that instinctively without looking, he aimed his free hand into the air, a tiny delicate object, made entirely of fire and shaped like a bowl, stayed suspended in the air, catching the downpour as Alistair smiled to himself. The cloud had grown to a considerable size. It was a reminder to not be cocky and assume he knew everything, much like he thought he did when faced with a 16-year-old student. While he didn't lord his magical ability and strength over people, he did tend to underestimate them.

 

Daphne expected as much, as she could see just how experienced the man was. However, it seemed like he was almost too experienced for his age. It was something to ponder on. What she didn't expect, however, what was he said next.

 

"A clever approach Miss Greengrass, 5 points to Slytherin." He bowed his head in respect, all the while still trading, defending and counter-attacking spells.

 

Her expression flickered in surprise for a brief second, unnoticeable to everyone but Alistair, who caught it. "It would have been more clever if it had succeeded." She pointed out, a small part of her determined to outsmart him.

 

"While that is true, it is thinking like yours which may help to save not only your life but someone else's as well."

 

"Thank you." The both of them knew she was referring to more than his complimenting her way of thinking and instead of replying with words, Alistair turned up the notch of his strength a little more, in answer to the fire in her eyes.

 

It was a double period, the majority of it spent with Alistair occasionally asking for them to switch places, though it seemed as though half of the students were taking on both roles, keeping the spells going back and forth rather than sticking to one role. The instructions he gave were more guidelines than anything, as long as in theory each student had time to study their partner and react accordingly to what spell may come next, everything was fine. Even the use of elements was to keep things simple. Though he didn't mention it to the class, it was also his way of seeing the variation of talent and spell-power each student had and where they were up to in terms of magical prowess. What he found slightly odd was that several students, mostly in Gryffindor, had exceptional talent. While there were a few in Slytherin who were at the same level, there was some who were worryingly below average.

 

One thing he would have to address, however, was at least half of the students were voicing their spells, be it for offence or defence. His mistake was assuming that everyone could cast non-verbally, even if their lips still moved. However, according to the school's notes on each year and what they were required to know, 6th years should know at least the basics, even if not put into practice. Not everyone had the aptitude, but even whispering spells would give someone an advantage against their opponent.

 

He put an end to the session with his partner, formally bowing to her. "Thank you for your time, Miss Greengrass."

 

She returned the gesture, giving him a sharp nod as her eyes were drawn to something.

 

After stopping, he was about to call for everyone to finish up until mostly everyone stopped on their own, eyes drawn to one pair still fighting. The rest of the students stepped back, leaving them plenty of space.

 

Alistair watched the two in interest, content to let them continue for a few more minutes. He was planning to stop earlier than needed, in case any issues arose. Nothing that the pair were doing was dangerous, the protective barriers he placed before the start of the lesson doing their job, as anything straying from its path was instantly absorbed.

 

Though he hadn't been at the school long, a few days before the students arrived, it was enough to learn of any and all staff gossip, one among them being the notorious rivalry between Harry and the Malfoy scion. However, watching as they moved from the elements to any and all spells in their repertoire, it didn't seem to be that way. There was a possibility that the pair of them managed to patch their differences, to the point where their rivalry, if anything, was more for show. Indeed at first glance and most likely to the students, it looked as though they were firing spells with the intent to kill. However, he recognized the mirroring expressions on their faces, one which he'd seen on his own.

 

Exhilaration, excitement, the adrenalin rush from a thrilling battle, the feeling of freedom and being able to express yourself, no chains binding you. He'd duelled with his brother often, the only one coming close to a match for him, though his expertise lay in the mind arts and potion making. The latter was a casual hobby more than anything. Watching Harry was lately becoming his favourite thing to do. While he did hide his emotions well, each one that he didn't hide was intriguing, to the point where he'd like to see just how many he had.

 

* * *

 

Harry wasn't sure when they'd stopped using elements and started using every spell they knew, but this was the most fun he'd had since flying around as Lume. While it probably appeared to everyone else that this was an opportunity for them to harm each other and get away with it, he sensed no such intent from his partner for the day. They'd wasted so much time bickering, Ron not helping the situation any either. While he couldn't forgive and forget, he wasn't that much of a Gryffindor, he was willing to start a clean slate. If this clean slate involved situations like his current one, all the better.

 

* * *

 

 

Unknowingly to Harry, Draco was having similar thoughts. He found himself surprised that he didn't want to kill Potter, a first for him. Just his sickening Gryffindor attitude was enough to seriously consider slipping poison into his pumpkin juice. But no, he'd returned to Hogwarts a changed person, for the better in his opinion. At least to the point where he might be able to tolerate his presence. It was as if everything he found unpleasant about Potter had transferred to Weasley, who was already insufferable. It seemed as though if he decided to torment Weasley, Potter's protests would be for show only.

 

Harry watched as a dare he say mischievous? Glint entered the grey eyes narrowed in concentration. From the end of his wand, a snake. Suspiciously similar to a one he remembered years ago.

 

"Scared, Potter?" He muttered, only loud enough for him to hear.

 

He couldn't hold back a snort. "You wish," he replied, just as quietly. He conjured a large flat rock, heated. _ **"Ignore the rude boy who** **sssummoned** **you. Have a** **ressst** **there."**_   He gestured to the rock.

 

 _ **"Many thanksss."**_   The snake immediately curled up on the rock. Shrugging, Harry returned his wand. "I guess we both win."

 

Watching the exchange, Alistair cocked his head in curiosity. There was a story behind those words, he could sense it, though they were meant for each other's ears only, it was rather difficult to not hear something when you could hear everything. Seeing as they finished up, he called for the class' attention.

 

They were the last to finish, Harry noted, watching as the students who'd watched them either turned their attention to the Professor or looked at him warily. Really, you'd think after his second year, the novelty of him being a Parselmouth would wear off. Apparently not. Rolling his eyes, his attention was brought to Alistair.

 

"Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, a fine display. While you both did descend into spells other than elemental, what I wanted you all to take away from this was not the spells used, but just how you used or defended against them on top of predicting your opponents' movements. 5 Points to Gryffindor and Slytherin."

 

A shocked murmur spread throughout the students. In part due to both houses gaining points, but also just who, as partners, had earned them for their house.

 

He could see nothing but good things for the future of Hogwarts. Harry watched as Alistair finished the lesson, taking the time to address everyone about non-verbal casting, speaking to the students who were struggling. Perhaps to offer assistance outside of the class. That was something he could address in the DA. It wasn't anything he'd covered with the group last year, wary of anyone knowing he'd been able to cast non-verbally before they'd learned. But this year, it was alright. He'd hold back on the wandless magic part, not wanting to put all his cards on the table.

 

The lesson was over before Harry knew it. The entire atmosphere had a different feel to it, one which he enjoyed immensely. It was a lesson certainly, but it didn't come across the same as the others he'd had before. It was all hands on, no chairs, desks or textbooks in sight. It was how he preferred to work and he could have wept in relief at how Anti-Umbridge his approach was.

 

He was about to follow his friends out as they had a free period. A few free periods actually, mainly for studying he knew.

 

"Mr Potter, may I have a word before you leave?"

 

Harry turned back to Alistair, gesturing for his friends to go on. He'd wanted to speak with him but was planning on asking when it was next convenient, mindful that he was most likely busy as the new Professor, particularly correcting the (mainly) wrongs that the previous Defense Professors had committed. Then, he remembered that Alistair had spoken in his mind the night of the feast, to ask to speak with him once the lesson ended.

 

In response, he sat back down on the grass and chuckling, Alistair followed suit until they were both on the floor, facing each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll think of a better summary if I can. If it's not the summary I draw blanks for, it's the chapter title.


	55. Heart of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's curiosity at why Alistair is their new Defence Professor is sated, as he shares just what happened during the interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Followed the progress of different group pairings during Professor Lothaire's lesson, who also wants a word with Harry, now that the lesson is over.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, appreciating the comfortable silence and peace, in contrast to the controlled chaos which was the first lesson of the year.

 

"You're a natural. You did a brilliant job, sir." He gave a genuinely warm smile to the elder man, heart and body light with enjoyment.

 

"It is just the two of us. Please, call me Alistair. Unless you would like for me to refer to you as Mr. Potter?" His tone was mildly teasing.

 

He shrugged, slightly abashed. "I might slip up, a habit ingrained into all Hogwarts students. Well, I usually forget to give Professor Snape his honorific."

 

"Why it's Ser Sunshine, of course." He smiled cheerfully. Exchanging gazes, they shared a laugh together.

 

"I have so many questions, that I don't know which to ask first." He admitted, bewildered.

 

"I apologize. It must have been quite the shock that someone who you'd met for a brief amount of time suddenly becomes your Defense Professor." He did look a little remorseful and Harry's heart clenched.

 

"No need to apologize. Sure it was a surprise, but for once when it comes to me and Hogwarts, it was a nice one." He reached over, patting him on the shoulder. "Anyway, I'm sure you have your reasons. But while you're here, you can kill several birds with one stone. You can set the bar high for Defense Professors, get everyone good with DADA as well as whatever you came here to do."

 

For a fleeting moment, it was as though Alistair's chest warmed at Harry's words. He was worried at how he would react, but he'd expected something far worse than being referred to as a nice surprise.

 

Harry was right. He did have his reasons. One was to keep an eye on the Headmaster and perhaps learn of his brother's whereabouts and the other was for Harry himself. However, he would only be sharing one of them. The other, he would keep close to his heart, as not often beating as it was. Lost in thought for a few moments, he was brought out of them by Harry's hesitant voice.

 

"When it's just the two of us, do you think you could remove your disguise?"

 

In truth, Harry was very comfortable. But, a tiny part of him experienced some discomfort not seeing the sunset coloured eyes which so often frequented his thoughts. There were other tiny changes here and there, however, his eye colour was the most noticeable.

 

"Of course." Outwardly Alistair did nothing, no hand gestures or words, just the evident change of disappearing brown and reappearing orange. In truth, he was happy that Harry was comfortable around him as he really was.

 

"I take it Dumbledore doesn't know you're a Vampire?"

 

At Harry's questioning tone, something passed through Alistair's expression which Harry couldn't identify. It was so many emotions simultaneously that it was hard to distinguish one from another. As much as Harry felt very out of his depth, Alistair's control was occasionally shaken by the younger man, such as his emotion leaking through. Not that he was aware of this. Being one of the oldest Vampires, he was surrounded on all sides by high expectations. Any signs of faltering, be it in emotional, magical strength or physical strength, could mean trouble. Even in the privacy of his own home, there was always the odd chance that one of his kind would seek him out to help settle disputes. If they were to find him in any state other than perfect, it would ruin everything he had achieved up until this point. The only other Vampire not minding being Rupert.

 

He didn't want power. If he had all the power in the world, it still wouldn't bring him joy. What he truly wanted, was for humans and vampires to co-exist. Not necessarily be friendly, but at the very least civil. While he knew that was difficult, particularly with the non-magical vampires attacking innocents, it was something he desired, along with his brethren to be more tolerant of humans.

 

Alistair could relax at Hogwarts. He held no ill will towards any human, save for Dumbledore. Hogwarts would bar anyone, regardless of species, from the castle if their intent was to harm. That is unless the current Headmaster or Headmistress altered the wards. Taking into consideration a possessed man, a man disguised who was a Death Eater, a woman from the ministry who actively harmed the students under her care and he, with more than deadly thoughts towards the Headmaster could enter the castle, perhaps that was true.

 

"The Headmaster loathes my kind," Alistair spoke honestly, voice hard as steel.

 

Harry shook his head, disgusted. "I loathe HIS kind. The kind which hides malicious intent and manipulation behind a cover of false pleasantries and an all seeing and all knowing attitude. Honestly, it's his loss. It's everyone's loss."

 

"Thank you." Closing his eyes which glittered fondly for a moment, he relaxed, a tea set appearing between them. "Help yourself. Shall I tell you about my interview?"

 

Nursing some tea between his hands, Harry blew gently across, taking a sip. "Please do."

 

* * *

 

August 1996, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

 

Observing the surroundings in curiosity, Alistair was half in disbelief that he was here. While he did submit more than satisfactory documents, he was expecting some sort of background check to be made before an interview with Albus Dumbledore himself was scheduled. Not because it was what he generally expected, but it was what he expected of the man himself. Apparently, he didn't need to think so far in advance.

 

It was a decision on the spur of the moment, somewhat unlike him. It was after his interactions with Harry that he'd decided to contact Hogwarts, to see if he'd be able to apply for the position of Defense Professor. Today was the last step of his aim, but the first step of whatever may come.

 

With those thoughts running through his mind, Alistair ensured his fangs were retracted and his eyes were a normal looking brown. It was a simple task to mask the dark undercurrent which flowed through his magic. By nature, he was a dark creature. He was certain that Dumbledore would be able to sense what he truly was if not for that. Though, he had his suspicions that despite his claim to be the leader of the light, he walked the grey area frequently.

 

As an afterthought, he placed a long-lasting warming charm on his hands. While Hogwarts was chilly and no doubt the humans inhabiting her had cold hands, he wasn't willing to take the chance.

 

"How curious," he muttered to himself, eyeing the portraits with interest. As intimately familiar with magic as he was, there were no moving portraits at his home. He was more comfortable with the idea of portraits remaining as they are. Though, they did suit the halls of Hogwarts admirably.

 

He reached his destination, the gargoyle already moving. Most likely, the Headmaster had various ways of knowing just who was outside his office, whether or not Hogwarts relayed to him the information. Not that he was too knowledgeable of the bond between the castle and the Headmaster/mistress, it was what he'd read on the subject here and there.

 

He gave himself a few moments. This would be the first time he'd come into contact with the man. Up until now, it had been viewing from a distance or news which he picked up on his travels. It would confirm with a certainty if Dumbledore was behind Solomon's disappearance. He would never forget the magical signatures. And, dare he even say it, give him some hope that he wasn't lost to him forever.

 

Ascending the steps, he rapped firmly on the office door, entering at the call to come in.

 

* * *

 

Albus Dumbledore was at his wit's end. In truth, though it was lost among his 'For the Greater Good' mentality, he did care about the education of the students. However, it was only a few Professors over the years, other than when he'd covered Defence Against The Dark Arts himself, that provided them with the quality education they needed. As the years went by, he'd begun to put his own interests above the needs of the students.

 

He'd hired Quirrell, in full knowledge that a shade of Tom Riddle was firmly ensconced within him. It was a chance to keep a close watch. But not only that, it was a chance to test Harry. He would watch from the sidelines and if needed, be the mentor to the lost young boy. It was his destiny to face the Wizard that had murdered countless and bring an end to years of national torment. The year produced the results he wanted, Harry was the perfect malleable piece, his puppet strings owned by Albus.

 

Lockhart was a fool, plain and simple. The singular reason he was Professor for that year was the fact that he could be used. That he remained in the permanent ward of St Mungo's to this day was no concern of his, as the female fans he'd acquired allowed for Albus to spread the influence of the Order of the Phoenix, their noble cause and through talk, allies were spread thinly throughout the country.

 

Lupin was just as much a tool as Harry. He loathed Werewolves almost as much as Vampires, but he knew that if he wanted results, it was better to have allies across more than just humans. Such was the reason that he helped Lupin when he was a student. The fact that he had a connection to Harry as family and both were desperate for that was just the icing on the cake. That Lupin turned out to be a good Professor was a side bonus. Black was a spanner in the works, one he'd overlooked. Not that it mattered now, however. It was only a shame that he failed to reunite Lupin with him.

 

Barty Crouch Junior was another such spanner. However, his appearance couldn't have helped more. He knew that immediately upon his arrival, that he was not Alastor. He had known the Wizard for too many years to be fooled by something such as Polyjuice Potion. A quick glimpse into his mind was enough to confirm everything. Tom had grown careless. He was on par with Severus as a Legilimens, though the Prince line had an inherent talent for the mind arts. The mark of The Death Eaters, he knew, was an adaptation of the one he created so long ago. And one of the features he knew of, was a defence mechanism. If someone breached specific memories which Tom didn't want them to find, the mark would pulse, physically ejecting the intruder from the mind. Sometimes if the Witch or Wizard wasn't strong of will, the backlash would kill them. He sensed no such thing in Barty's mind. Though perhaps that was due to Tom's bodiless state.

 

Barty's plans played perfectly with his own. He was searching for a way to bring Tom back to a mortal body, as the state he was no doubt in wouldn't do. He didn't need to do anything this year. Everything went according to plan and as soon as he explained the situation to the real Alastor, he was accepting of it, though a little put out he'd waited so long to free him. He brushed that off, reaffirming it was for the good of the Wizarding World.

 

Dolores Umbridge, however, was a disaster. It seemed that Minister Fudge had forgotten his place. Two puppet strings were held by Albus, the other Lucius Malfoy. His strings snapped and because of this, all of his plans for that year were ruined, save for one. The one thing he could do before he left Hogwarts for a brief period of time, was to order Severus to work with Harry on protecting his mind. However, he knew that Severus would relish the opportunity to attack his mind and torment the boy more than actually teach him. Which left his mind wide open. Through this, he was hoping that Harry saw visions through Tom's eyes and report to him so that the light would have an advantage. And it worked, to a certain extent.

 

But after that year, everything had gone wrong. He would call Harry to his office soon. He could afford no more strings to break, Fudge had caused enough problems.

 

So for once, in good judgment, he searched for someone with no ties to this country, no affiliations with Hogwarts and an impressive record. Mr Lothaire looked to fit the bill, though there was one thing which would guarantee the job and one thing only. With that in mind, he called for his visitor to enter.

 

* * *

 

Before Alistair had so much as stepped fully into the room, he was attacked with a wave of familiarity. The man's magical signature. It was very strong. Strong, deadly and not as light as the man may have deluded himself into thinking. More importantly, it confirmed what he'd only suspected up until now. But, ignoring his natural instinct to sink his fangs into the tempting neck, he instead stepped forward confidently, a natural smile gracing his lips.

 

"Good afternoon Headmaster, I am Alistair Lothaire." The man seated before him stood up, as they shook hands and for a brief second, approval passed through his blue eyes. for what reason, Alistair didn't know.

 

  
"Good afternoon Mr Lothaire." Dumbledore pushed his half-moon glasses further up his nose, eyes focused intently on him. Before either could speak any further, a joyful sounding trill filled the circular room.

 

Now, this was something Alistair couldn't prepare for. He knew the headmaster had a Phoenix familiar, one of the lightest Magical Creatures known throughout the Magical and Muggle world. This Phoenix would know what he was immediately. Chances were highly likely that it would reject him and securing a place at Hogwarts would be difficult.

 

But, to his immense surprise, the Phoenix flew from its perch to land on his shoulder. Not only that, but the feathered head rubbed against his cheek once, singing sweetly. He held a cautious hand out to the bird, in a slight daze as it allowed him to pet it. The beady black eyes caught his own, alight with intelligence and as it did, warmth spread through his body.

 

The older a Vampire, the darker their nature became, regardless of a Magical or Non-Magical state. Why was a Phoenix, of all things, friendly with him?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that. I know it's a weird place to cut off and I'd planned to write the full interview in its entirety, but I don't think I would've got it done on time. The summary and title is a bit crap but I hope the actual contents are less so xD


	56. Dulled Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fawkes is reconsidering his place, while Alistair answers Dumbledore's questions, as truthfully as his situation will allow him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Alistair starts to share with Harry what exactly happened during his interview with Dumbledore.

"Fawkes seems quite taken with you. He only approaches those who are light." He spoke calmly, observing the man before him. It seemed that he had no worries. The one thing which would have guaranteed his position was how Fawkes would react. Seeing him leave his perch for a stranger was a reassuring thought.

 

Unknown to Dumbledore, the bonds which tied Headmaster and Phoenix together, most natural, some unnatural, were fraying around the edges. Fawkes had been with Albus for longer than Albus himself knew before they were officially bonded. Fawkes sensed nothing but a desire to do what was right. But since the death of his sister, he had started to change, becoming warped by Gellert's 'for the greater good.' He had lost himself along the way and Fawkes had only wanted to nurture the small part of the good that was still in him, but with each passing day, it was becoming more difficult for the Phoenix to stay.

 

Alistair had the feeling that Dumbledore wasn't exactly right but then again, he didn't know the minds of Phoenixes.

 

He watched in silence as Dumbledore fixed tea for them both, offering a bowl filled to the brim with yellow sweets. "Lemon Drop?"

 

"Thank you." He reached out to take one, but left it, still wrapped, on the armrest of the chair.

 

Newly grown beard twitching with slight mirth, as Severus did the same thing when offered one, he went through the procedure of the interview though, in his mind, he was hired already. No one could argue against the judgment of a Phoenix, after all.

 

"What can you tell me about yourself?" Despite his decision, he would listen to the man's answers well. He needed to know if he could prove to be a threat to his cause in the future.

 

Alistair went through every kind of possible interview questions beforehand, so that he would be able to amend the truth somewhat. While it was important to be as honest as possible, in the case of him being a Vampire, this was one unspoken rule of interviews he couldn't follow. So, he would be simply going by the age that he stopped ageing altogether if asked. He went over his words carefully.

 

"I spend most of my free time travelling, to both the Magical and Non-Magical areas. I want to appreciate every culture I possibly can, in order to broaden my mind and gain a deeper understanding. Through this, I am a qualified Dueling champion with several Masteries in Defence, as you know." He took a sip of his tea, a part of his mind concerned it would be laced with Veritiserum. It would not affect his ability to select the words he wanted to say carefully, but embarrassingly enough, he was allergic to one of the ingredients used to make the Potion. "I was homeschooled, relying on the knowledge of friends, family, and the extensive library which to this day I still make use of."

 

There was nothing there he could disapprove of. He had been trying to encourage those who would listen to him to venture into the Muggle world more often, as some of their creations despite not having magic at their disposal was quite ingenious, one such thing being Lemon Drops. Where this man gained his knowledge from, Albus didn't mind as regardless of if he'd attended a school or not, he was more than knowledgeable.

 

"I see, thank you." He stirred more sugar into his tea. Alistair's fangs were aching at the sight. "Why should I consider hiring you?"

 

"While it is true that I am qualified to teach and I'm confident that I will be able to meet Hogwarts' standards, that is not the sole reason I believe that I should be hired. The students will be my top priority. I will never knowingly put them in harm's way. I will protect them and if the unrest in this country spreads to the school, I will fight alongside them. Alongside all of you. I would like to take the opportunity to give back to the next generation so that they are able to help fight and secure their own futures."

 

The passion was clearly laced through his voice. As much as he omitted something vital with his first answer, this one he couldn't be more honest if he tried. Sensing a light probing of his mind, he allowed it to be filled with only his current thoughts relating to the answer he just gave. He couldn't lead victims around his mind on a merry goose chase like Solomon, however, there was not a chance that Dumbledore could breach his mind.

 

Albus was toying with the idea of inviting Mr Lothaire into The Order. He had impressive power, enough to rival his own and just a light scan of his mind removed most doubts that he had. He held a healthy suspicion for everyone. The main reason why he couldn't say he was particularly close to anyone either. Whatever way he looked at this, he would be an asset to the school.

 

"What are your three greatest strengths?" Albus watched out the corner of his eye as Fawkes took flight, landing back on his perch and seemingly watching the two intently.

 

"Despite my young age, I am experienced in many duelling techniques, each which vary from country to country. Through my travelling, I am fluent in over 50 languages, including Mermish, Gobbledegook, and Dovahzul. I work very well as part of a team unit, I would not have achieved all that I have without the support of others."

 

"Dovahzul?" Albus was not familiar with the language.

 

"Ah, of course, forgive me. I believe the British call it Dragonspeak." It was one of the first languages Alistair spent many years of his endless life perfecting, eager to not just for communication, but to explore the way he could push magic through the words he spoke.

 

That was enough of a shock for Albus to raise both bushy white eyebrows. "Impressive." indeed it was. Dragonspeak was not like Parseltongue where you're born with the ability, despite the close relation in species, or learning a language through sheer memory alone. Dragonspeak required the learner be strong of spirit, magic, mind, and body. It was taxing in every way imaginable and not the kind of language you could hold regular conversations with. it required a lot of power, particularly in the vocal chords. A dragon's roar was pure, untamed energy channelled usually into challenges. Conversing with a Dragon in their language was akin to starting a verbal war. It was not for the faint of heart.

 

"What is a weakness of yours?" Often, Albus had to sit and listen to those who thought they were clever, turning a strength into a weakness, He hoped dearly it wouldn't be the case this time.

 

"A certain area I am looking to improve is my ability as an authority figure. I am not a strict person. My usual approach is to mutually work out a solution than to immediately lay down the law. Through experience working in a classroom setting, I am confident I will learn more about balancing my approach."

 

It wasn't something which made him feel weak, it wasn't exactly that kind of weakness. But, he had to pick one which wouldn't affect his chances of being accepted as Hogwarts' staff.

 

Dumbledore couldn't say anything against this. He found himself relating to Mr Lothaire, as his teaching style in comparison to Severus was like night and day. He never wanted a class he taught to feel rushed. If there was one thing he hadn't lost sight of in his old age, it was how to teach students effectively.

 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Lothaire. Before you take your leave, is there anything you wish to ask me?"

 

Draining the last of his tea, Alistair straightened himself slightly, thinking for a moment.

  
"Can you tell me more about the responsibilities of this position? What can I expect on a usual day?"

  
"If you were to be this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, I would expect you to offer support to the students and your fellow co-workers, as well as to teach your students to the best of your ability. Once a week, meetings are held in order to check progress and to discuss any rising concerns and if you joined the staff, a senior member will be there to aid you and oversee any lesson plans, marking, detention assigning and removal of house points to ensure that you're doing a proper job. You will be required to patrol Hogwarts and the grounds along with the other staff, the head students, and prefects. You will decide among staff members who patrols when."

 

He failed to mention how one particular staff member had taught at the school for years but still treated the points system unfairly.

 

Despite the less than pleasant thoughts he had towards this man, he at least knew how to do his job. Or on the surface that was the case. But his decision-making was certainly flawed if what he'd heard from Harry was any indication. As much as he wasn't fond of prolonging his mental agony, they were questions he was genuinely interested to know.

 

"What are your aims for the next school year?"

 

How curious. It wasn't often he was asked a question relating to him. Usually, it was about what the interviewee could expect. Nevertheless, he answered.

 

"To continue to uphold the quality of education one can expect from Hogwarts School and prepare the elder students for whatever the future may hold." Albus didn't go into detail. It wasn't only graduation the students had in their future, after all.

 

Alistair had the vague feeling that there was more to his answer than he could pick up on. Ignoring the feeling and saving it for thought later, he thanked him and politely excused himself, to wait and see if he'd succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another game reference ;) I can't help myself. This was hard to write! Harder than I thought it would be. What does one write for a magical interview? :P


	57. Pray for Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's feeling a little flustered after his conversation with Alistair, but a letter arrives for him which soon makes him forget his previous feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Alistair's interview with Dumbledore and how it progressed, until the end.

Bringing himself back to current topics, Alistair let a single sigh escape. "I am here for more than one reason. To keep an eye on The Headmaster, yes, but I now know for certain that he was involved with my brother's disappearance." He finished on a sorrowful note as Harry tried to wrap his mind around Dumbledore's actions. Particularly his answer for the school goals. He didn't like the way it was worded and he just knew, it involved Voldemort, him or more likely, the pair of them.

 

Then, a shard of pain pricked his heart. He didn't ever want Alistair to sound like that. While he had no siblings of his own, he saw most of the Weasley family, Luna, and Hermione as his honourary siblings. The thought of not knowing whether they were dead or alive, he didn't even want to imagine.

 

"I don't know how much help I can be, but I'll do what I can. I've been around Dumbledore more closely than you have over a longer period of time and I'd like to say that I know at least some of how he works, through being his temporary puppet. I can't even begin to think how you feel, but it gives me one more reason to hate the old bastard. I've got your back-"

 

As he finished the last word, arms reached out, wrapping around his torso firmly. Alistair's braid tickled the side of his face, as Harry became overly aware of how close they suddenly were.

 

"Thank you." His voice filled with the warmth his body didn't have, a hand came to rest on the back of his head.

 

It took a few seconds for Harry's brain to catch up but once it did, his heart was beating enough for the both of them. _'Fast enough to give Buckbeak a run for his money.'_   He thought idly, using Alistair's chest to hide the fact that he was blushing furiously. Honestly, if everything else about his life was as not teenager-like as you could get, this part certainly made up for it.

 

It was an unconscious gesture. Though Alistair was affectionate and Solomon rarely initiated physical contact, there wasn't ever a long period of time that went by where he didn't hug his brother. Although, he would be lying if he said he didn't want to hold Harry in his arms anyway. There was something comforting about feeling and hearing a heartbeat which wasn't his own. It was why he only ever chose human lovers and sometimes, those who had Lycanthropy. He'd enjoyed their warmth, but he hadn't taken a lover since Solomon's disappearance. No one had sparked his interest quite as much as Harry, which was an achievement with how many generations he'd seen pass by.

 

As Harry felt himself being released, he was relieved that the blush had gone from his face and promptly ignored the tiny pang of disappointment at the loss of coolness. It was the polar opposite to Remus, in every way, but he found it just as comforting as his friend's incredible warmth.

 

"I shall let you take your leave. If you have time to spare, as I know this year is a particularly busy one for you, you are welcome to stop by the classroom or my office. I won't be leaving the castle much, for now." He stood up, offering a hand. Taking it, Harry was pulled to his feet.

 

"I'll keep my eye out for any word of him. What's his name?" He asked, as an afterthought.

 

"Solomon Sakari."

 

Engraving the name into his heart, he made a silent promise. He would help Alistair as much as he could.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a blur. A part of his mind was still lingering on Alistair's embrace, but he firmly steered himself away from those thoughts with a bull-headed determination, as despite his distraction he felt the rest of his lessons went well.

 

Thankfully Ron was silent throughout the rest of the classes he shared with him. Harry wondered if Ron had actually gone to McGonagall. Not that he cared but if he didn't, he was more careless with his living state than even Harry had been. He'd rather face the Horntail any day than McGonagall. Hell, he'd rather face an angry Snape than an angry McGonagall, it was a natural state he was used to seeing Snape in.

 

Seeing a spot next to Neville was open, he slid into the seat, not wasting any time and piling his plate high. Looking at Luna, he was reminded of this morning. He had to ask.

 

"Did you find anyone to give your necklaces to?" She was seated by Hermione this time, reading what must be the latest issue of the Quibbler. She looked over the top, her wide blue eyes regarding him in curiosity.

 

"I did. I gave Professor Snape one." She spoke in her usual light tone, as though what she'd just said wasn't a massive shock.

 

"And you're, alive?" Neville questioned, looking at Luna in slight awe.

 

A giggle escaped her. "Of course, silly. I left one on his desk." Ginny looked back and forth between Luna and the empty seat of Snape's, as Hermione was lost to the world, a well-worn book claiming her attention. It was then that he noticed.

 

"Ron's in detention, I take it? I never thought I'd say this but I feel sorrier for Snape than I do Ron." Running a hand through his hair, he wondered what to do about the former. He saw Dumbledore as the bigger threat, but it would be a problem if he continued to not know where he stood with the man where their hatred was mutual.

 

Hearing a hoot which was unusual since the post always came at morning, Harry looked up to see a Palawan Scops Owl, black in colour, land in front of him. Dark red eyes which unnerved him with a strange familiarity bored into his own. It seemed to radiate impatience as a letter attached to its leg was stuck out and he untied it, reading quickly.

 

_Potter,_

_There is a matter of importance that I wish to discuss with you. At your earliest convenience, come to my office._

_S. Snape_

_~ Henrik will not leave unless you make an offering._

 

Now Harry understood where he felt the familiarity from. Really, couldn't he have said that in a less than ominous way? He eyed the owl in front of him dubiously, wondering if he'd be happy with bacon like Hedwig or if he'd prefer an offering of human flesh. Snickering to himself, he held out a strip of bacon experimentally, sighing in relief when Henrik took flight.

 

He was just about finished, there was no better time than the present. That and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch Ron suffering and for once, he wasn't beside him doing so.

 

Sensing his friend's curiosity, he put the slip of parchment on the table for them to see. "I may as well go now. It's either going to go well, or we'll be on worse terms than we've ever been before."

 

"I'll start a group in support," Ginny spoke solemnly, plucking some grapes off a bunch and setting them down on a table, where she transfigured them into badges, handing one to Hermione, Luna, and Neville, putting hers on her robe. It read, #PrayforPotter. Seeing this, Harry shook his head in amusement.

 

"It's better than Potter Stinks anyway. I don't know what Malfoy was thinking with that one." He said more to himself than the group, leaving the table and heading for the dungeons. Since it was at his earliest convenience and he didn't know when Harry would come to his office, there was no real reason for him to rush. Not having a class to go to, a need to sneak around or his life in complete and utter turmoil, he took the time to really appreciate the castle in all its splendour.

 

During this time, the feeling he'd had since arriving at the castle returned with a vengeance. He put it down to fatigue or nerves and tried to dismiss it, but he wasn't nervous or tired. In fact, he'd never been more refreshed. This feeling in truth he couldn't chalk down to either. It was an insistent tug in his chest, saying to him without words that there was somewhere that he must be, it was strange. Something told him that it wouldn't be leaving anytime soon so depending on how long the conversation with Professor Snape would last, he would take the time to investigate.

 

He found the dungeons relaxing, as the darkness reminded him of his cupboard. The feelings still remained, though his new home was where he now felt the safest. In fact, if it wasn't for Snape himself, The Dungeons may very well be one of his favourite parts of the castle.

 

Walking the familiar corridors and listening to the sound of his own footsteps, he was about to go in the direction of Snape's office, until he heard the sound of voices coming from their usual Potions classroom. He'd never took the time to think if Professors bothered soundproofing the classrooms when detentions were in session. Not that he minded, in this case.

 

"Weasley! What part of harvesting Bubotuber pus did you not comprehend? The Potion vials are not there for pretty little desk adornments, they are there to be used."

 

"Once again, Weasley, you have proven me wrong. I did not think you could prove to be a bigger Dunderhead than you already are. **Squeeze. The. Plants.** Do not cut them!"

 

Harry's tongue was practically bleeding from the acidic and barbed comments spewing from the Professor's mouth. He was unintentionally eavesdropping but it was too amusing to walk away from.

 

"Greasy git."

 

Harry closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the rough stone in resignation. Whispering was never a word in Ron's vocabulary. A Mandrake was quieter than him and that was saying something.

 

"I have already removed several points. If you would like your house to be in negative numbers for the rest of the school year, I shall be happy to accommodate you."

 

There was no response. Sensing a lull in the flow of conversation, Harry knocked hesitantly.

 

"What?" He winced at the snapping tone. He didn't exactly have a cheerful disposition at the best of times, but anyone would be pissed off if they had to spend their free time supervising Ron. Then again, Snape was probably half enjoying tormenting Ron and half hating having to oversee him butcher potions ingredients.

 

Silently steeling himself and half expecting another jar of questionable potions ingredients to be thrown in his direction, he opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I have far too much fun with Snape/Ron interactions :P
> 
> ~Added Note. Thank you so much! Over 1,000 Kudos, that's blown my mind. Even to the people who just checked out this fic and gave a like but didn't continue it I appreciate, because everyone has taken the time out of their day to read. I'm so happy ^_^


	58. The House of Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron just can't seem to catch a break. Not that Harry felt any sympathy for him. Neither does Professor McGonagall. And what it is that Professor Snape wants with him, exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry couldn't quite seem to remove Alistair's embrace fully from his mind, but receiving a letter from Professor Snape and hearing his conversation with Ron soon put those thoughts to the back of it.

Harry was met with the sight of a looming Snape, much like the overgrown bat the students assumed him to be until he turned to face Harry, his expression immediately clearing of all emotion.

 

"Potter." He acknowledged him with a slight incline of his head. Before Snape could say anything, Harry caught sight of Ron and widened his eyes wordlessly.

 

In an act of sheer stupidity that even Harry didn't think him capable of, he held the Bubotuber in a tight grip, squeezing for all his worth. While Snape might be the biggest arse hole when it came to his unfair points taking, he did know his potion ingredients and the number of times they'd gone over the correct way to handle these plants he'd lost count of, particularly after Crabbe made the same mistake Ron was going to. He wasn't gripping the Bubotuber correctly and was about to receive a faceful of pus.

 

Noticing the change in Harry's expression, Snape turned back to Ron and Harry watched in slight amazement at the various colour shades his skin went through, faster than what even Vernon did.

 

"Idiot boy!" snarling, he was about to unleash a tirade of more insults and summon the plant but was a fraction too late.

 

Ron's face flushed red. Both in embarrassment and anger. He was sick of Snape and picking up the nearest Bubotuber and not checking, he took out all of his frustration through the death grip he had.

 

Snape's shout, tinged with a hint of panic, Caught Ron's short attention span. Brought out of his murderous thoughts, he realized too late just what a huge mistake he made.

 

Harry, still stood where he was, watched on with Snape, wand still half drawn, as a considerable amount of puss hit Ron square in the face. He was only just quick enough to shield his eyes from the damage, but the majority of it still managed to coat his face, some being absorbed by the dragonhide gloves. The puss trickled, trailing a little down his neck and leaving behind little boils in its wake.

 

He sucked in a breath. The boils erupting on his skin looked more painful than the usual ones. He wasn't sure if it was because he is fair skinned, that Bubotuber had more concentrated puss or if Ron had a particularly bad reaction to them. He jumped at the sudden scream of pain, half expecting Fang to knock the classroom door down as he was sure Ron was high pitched enough for him to have heard.

 

Quicker than either of the boys could register, Snape grabbed hold of Ron's collar, dragging him through a hidden doorway involving brick tapping much like Diagon alley and after a moment, Harry cautiously followed, watching as Snape picked up some powder, enclosing it within his fist then throwing it into the Floo. He couldn't hear the destination as Ron was still screaming in pain, but at a guess, it was The Hospital Wing. He unsuccessfully tried to repress a snort as Snape unceremoniously shoved him into the fireplace, taking him to his destination before he could fall flat on his face.

 

"Seat yourself over there, I will be with you momentarily," Snape spoke to him, clipped and sounding more than irritated and for once, it didn't seem to be because of him. Taking advantage of his better mood than usual, he did as asked, not having the urge to snoop as he would've done so long ago.

 

* * *

 

 

Severus would truly prefer marking first-year Potions Assignments than this. Placing a cushioning charm on the floor and kneeling, he contacted Minerva. The last thing he needed was the blasted tabby sharpening her claws on him because he failed to inform her that one of her precious lions was injured during one of his detentions.

 

"Minerva McGonagall's Office." He was half hoping she was out so he didn't have to inform her. But even then, he'd have to send a Patronus. When he joined on as staff, dealing with irate yet fierce women wasn't in the contract that he signed or if it was, small print. Albus was that meddling for it to have been the case.

 

In the flickering flames was the familiar face of his colleague, a tin of Ginger Newt Biscuits and tea on her desk in the back, the woman herself kneeling much like he was. Before she could even speak a word, the thin threads of patience he'd had throughout supervising Weasley snapped.

 

"I am beginning to think that your house is the house of idiots! Minerva, your lions share half a brain cell between them. When I'm of firm belief that I couldn't loathe them more than I do, another student proves me wrong!" While most would cringe at his acidic tongue, Minerva merely sighed, irritation seeping into her own voice.

 

"If I have told you once Severus I have told you many times, not all of my Gryffindors are what you claim them to be. Who was it this time?" She had a sinking suspicion.

 

"Ronald Weasley." He finished on a sneer, the remembered echo of his earlier screams battering at his mind. Had the boy not discovered puberty?

 

She closed her eyes in resignation. More than anyone, that was the name she was hearing and it was only the first day. She'd already had to berate him for his lack of focus and effort in her class today and there was a noticeable rift between Weasley and Potter. Potter's spellwork had improved drastically however and she was sure in part it was down to Weasley's lack of influence. If she heard one more member of staff complain, as Filus and now Severus had, She would transfigure Ron into a ball of yarn and leave him with Mrs Norris.

 

"He is currently in The Hospital wing, after having squeezed Bubotuber pus onto himself rather than the bottle he was meant to empty them in."

 

"Very well, I shall speak with him." She was about to end the Floo call when there was a sudden knock on her door.

 

"Oh, who could that be?" Severus heard Minerva muttering to herself.

 

Minerva, for her part, was eyeing her scotch cabinet longingly. Somehow, she knew her mood wasn't going to improve any.

 

"Come in." She seated herself behind her desk, taking a sip of her tea and forgetting about Severus who ended the call himself. He had the feeling of narrowly dodging a bullet, as truly she was the scarier one when angry.

 

The door opened to reveal their newest addition to the staff and despite herself, she smiled fondly. She was the one to oversee his work for the first few months and she was growing as fond of him as she was Harry. He had a natural charm about him, like the late Sirius Black in his school years, only without the cockiness and arrogance.

 

"Ah Alistair, take a seat. Ginger Newt?" She pushed the tin over to the man invitingly.

 

The smile he gave her was slightly strained. "I'm not here for a social call I'm afraid. Other than your class, has Ronald Weasley paid a visit to you?"

 

"No. Why?" She pursed her lips in disapproval. If what she thought Alistair was going to say was correct, she'd reconsider the earlier thought on her bottle of Scotch.

 

Disappointed, he sighed. "I told him to report to you. I gave him a chance to be trusted after disrespecting me, ignoring instructions and verbally abusing a student. I did say that I would check to see if he'd come to see you. Whether he thought I was bluffing, I'm unsure."

 

"Who was the student?" She hesitated to ask, but she had to know the details.

 

"Daphne Greengrass."

 

Mentally steeling herself, she prepared for the worst. "And what did he say to her, exactly?"

 

Alistair liked Minerva, she had a character that greatly intrigued him. But he'd never quite felt as much danger radiating from the woman as right now.

 

After a moment of hesitation, he spoke up. "I bet you're one of his whores, sleeping with him for favours. You make me sick." He hated to repeat such vile words, the sound of them causing him discomfort.

 

Looking at his colleague, she was far more intimidating than Ser Sunshine. Not that he personally found anyone intimidating, he thought his dark-haired colleague was charming in his own way. But, he could understand why some students thought Minerva was more deadly.

 

She put the teacup she'd been drinking from down on the desk with a little more force than necessary, warm tea spilling onto the polished surface. Her lips were a thin line, eyes narrowed dangerously. The smell of her magic was apparent in the air and crackling around her frame, sharp yet tamed.

 

"That laddie, how dare he treat someone this wey? A dinnae know what's gotten intae him bit rest assured ah will pat a stoap tae it!" She stood up suddenly, looking up at Alistair's tall frame. He was taller than Severus even but at that moment, it was like she towered over him instead. He was amazed a human could create such a setting.

 

"He will apologise tae Miss Greengrass 'n' ye even if ah hae tae drag him by th' lug. Do excuse me." 

 

Her Scottish brogue was more apparent when angry. At least Alistair knew what signs to look for in the future. "Of course." He bowed his head in acknowledgment, leaving the classroom as Minerva flooed to the hospital wing. He didn't envy Mr. Weasley in the slightest.

 

* * *

 

Ending the Floo call, Severus could almost swear he heard Weasley on the receiving end of Minerva's ire. He smirked in enjoyment, then mentally sighed at the wasted potions ingredients. Usually, even an inept student managed to harvest some good ingredients, but Weasley had managed barely a drop of puss and there were still plenty more to go. In truth, he didn't have much time to prepare ingredients himself, which irritated him to no end. The ingredients he stocked from Diagon's Apothecary were good, but not to his standards. They didn't know the best way to make the most out of each ingredient like he did and he couldn't expect the students to know either.

 

"Do you want a hand with them?" Severus turned towards Potter who was seated but looking at the classroom beyond the door.

 

"With what, Potter?" He had to clarify, for his own sake. No son of James Potter would ever voluntarily offer assistance.

 

"With the Bubotubers. I'm here and 2 pairs of hands are better than one. Plus I might be a dunderhead, but I haven't reached Ron's level yet."

 

Severus was immediately suspicious. There was nothing for him to gain with this, so why the sudden offer? Keeping that thought in mind, his eyes penetrated Harry's own. "Very well Potter. Come."

 

Harry did as asked. He offered partly because he hated to see a job badly done, partly because he did find sorting ingredients soothing in its own way and partly because he really did want Snape to feel inclined to treat him with at least indifference. There wasn't a chance he'd think he was being the teacher's pet type, there was no fondness between the two of them.

 

Standing opposite one another, the pair set to work. Unknown to Severus, who was focused on the task at hand, Harry was watching him carefully. The man was a Potions Master and he was sure the way they were taught to harvest this was slightly different to the way he did it himself and after a few seconds, this proved to be true, Even from the smaller plants, it seemed as though more puss than what was usual of a plant that size was squeezed out. Harry tried to alter his grip the same as his and he was relatively successful. Seeing this, he continued what he was doing and found that with each one, there was a slight improvement in just how much puss he collected, particularly from the larger ones.

 

Between them, they'd filled at least a dozen bottles. Severus raised one eyebrow, impressed despite himself.

 

"An adequate job, Potter." He didn't use magic to gather them all together, as often ingredients could alter depending on outside influences.

 

Harry could understand that perfectly. To him it was only natural to go and pick something up rather than to summon it, he didn't want to rely on magic too much, incase he was ever in a situation where he was unable to use it. 

 

Harry returned to the desk chair he was sitting in, Professor Snape opposite him. He looked hesitant, but that didn't seem right at all. Snape was never one to hesitate. Now he was even more curious, though he did expect a conversation with him sooner or later.

 

"Potter. I apologise." It seemed to take a lot of effort for him to say that. Harry guessed it was more who he was apologizing to than the apology itself.

 

And then it hit him. What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silverstargirl, your wish is my command xD


	59. Perfect Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited discussion between Harry and Snape begins, both unable to predict what the other will do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Ron's taken Harry's place in the reckless department and McGonagall is on his case. And Snape apologises to Harry?

Harry said nothing, unable to hide his surprise and confusion. Why was he apologizing? Not that he didn't have anything to apologize for, the opposite was true. He was just wondering if it was something specific.

 

  
After a moment Snape continued, his words stiff. "Lupin. The Headmaster lead me to believe that we were simply going to have a conversation. I was not aware that he planned to kill him. While I did not actively take part in his attempted murder, I did nothing to stop the damage inflicted upon his person either. While my loathing is second only to your father and Black, I do not wish for his death. If you want further proof," Here he stopped, looking as if he were fighting an internal struggle and Harry immediately understood why. "I shall make the memory of that night available to you." The intensity in Snape's eyes intrigued Harry, as often he wasn't able to get a read on him.

 

  
He deeply regretted viewing Snape's memories, more so since breaking away from Dumbledore's influence. He knew just how painful it was for others to see your unwanted memories and while Snape saw much more of his life than he ever did in the Pensieve due to brute force, it didn't make him feel any better at all. Plus he didn't need Occlumency lessons now, the time he spent in his mindscape with Thanatos and Lume already providing ample protection.

 

  
He thought over Snape's words and while he acknowledged them, his mind inadvertently flashed back to how he found Remus, almost unrecognizable in his burnt state. If it wasn't for his Lycanthropy, he would've died. The last of the family connected to his parents would be no more and he'd be left alone.

 

  
The air in the room seemed to plummet, a remarkable feat considering they were in the dungeons. A quiet anger overtook him, so different to the heated rage he'd experienced when the incident happened. He flexed his hand into a fist, releasing after a few seconds and just as quickly as the anger came, it dissipated. Though imagining that he was ringing Dumbledore's neck as he clenched his fist had everything to do with it. As much as he was angry at Snape for more than just his inaction, he was not the problem. Not anymore. That was saved for Dumbledore and Mad-Eye.

 

  
Even after learning that the man who had taught them during 4th year wasn't the real Mad-Eye, he was one of the few wizards where upon first sight, he felt instant dislike. Not even Snape had managed that. His first reaction to him was extreme curiosity, followed by wariness which overtime, descended into hate. Now he was very much indifferent. But no, not Mad-Eye.

 

* * *

 

 

June 1995, Hospital Wing

 

Staring blankly at the ceiling from where he lay on what he officially classed as his bed, Harry wondered how anything involving him could go from bad to worse within the space of a few minutes. But this time, it involved an innocent life lost.

 

He wasn't close to Cedric by any means but he was a nice guy and not one deserving of death. He was glad he could do one thing for him, even if it was to return his body. Though he knew it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Perhaps he could have defended them both better, he had a grasp on wandless magic after all but in the end, he didn't want to give away something to Voldemort which could ultimately give him an advantage.

 

He was young and inexperienced, not to mention restricted. His thoughts stubbornly seemed to stray in a direction which wasn't natural. Any suspicions of Dumbledore were covered with a mental voice screaming that he could be trusted, he was the leader of the light after all. Maybe he was losing his mind, having mental arguments.

 

But he knew the way he was, physically and mentally, he would never be able to match Voldemort spell for spell and Dumbledore himself must know this. So why wasn't he teaching him anything?

 

A few beds away, the slow drawing of curtains caught Harry's attention and shifting his head slightly, he looked across to be faced with the gaunt vision of Mad-Eye Moody.

 

Their appearance was the same minus the real Moody's weight loss, however, the emotions worn were entirely different. The man sitting up in the bed across from him exuded danger more so than Barty who was a Death Eater, which he found unusual. His electric blue eye and one good eye were not staring at him, but seemed to see through and into him entirely. He was wearing an expression all too familiar. Disdain, and the one which the Dursleys showed often. The belief that he was a complete idiot.

 

To receive this from someone who he'd never met before, let alone spoken to, set him on edge. The Dursleys had a reason to hate him, he was 'The unwanted Nephew of a freaky family.' But this man didn't know him personally, so how dare he? It raised his hackles.

 

"Potter." His tone didn't differ from the facial expression he wore, sounding just as gruff and grizzled as his appearance.

 

"Moody." Two could play at that game. Harry was of firm belief that he would treat someone exactly how they treated him, the only exceptions being in class. If he used this mentality in Potions, Gryffindor would be in permanent negative numbers.

 

Neither said anything to the other more than that. Harry didn't trust Moody at all and since that moment, he'd never felt quite right around him and usually exited the room whenever he was there, with one excuse or another.

 

There was something more to him, something which no one knew. He didn't know this of course, but it was an instinct. He wasn't just a battered old Auror with a museum of scars, he was someone to watch out for and under no circumstances, to be underestimated.

 

* * *

 

 

As chilled green eyes calmly met Severus' own, it reminded him of kneeling before the Dark Lord. It was as though he was staring death in the face once more. He didn't avert his gaze or back down, but neither did he keep a tight guard on his emotions. He simply was. And, filled with a quiet determination to, over time, build at least some shaky trust with Potter.

 

"It's not me you should apologize to, it's Remus. He was the injured one in all of this mess. But I accept. I won't forget, though." A slight frown marred Harry's face. "I owe you an apology as well. My intention in your Pensieve that day was to see if you knew anything which Dumbledore neglected to tell me but not thinking of what memories you placed in there that you wanted no one to see, I went ahead and for that, I'm sorry."

 

Much like Harry was surprised by Severus' apology, Severus was surprised by Harry's but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance.

 

All of a sudden, Harry gave a tentative grin. "You have good aim, however, that jar nearly knocked my head off."

 

"Indeed." An amused glint entered his eyes. After a moment's thought, a tea and coffee set appeared on the table and Harry couldn't help but give it a hesitant glance.

 

"Rest assured Potter, it is not poisoned. You would not have survived your first year at Hogwarts had I wished to kill you. You've done a remarkable job of nearly ending your life prematurely several times without my influence." Smirking, he set aside his black coffee to cool.

 

Harry replied with a smirk of his own. "I was convinced in my first year you were trying to kill me, up until Quirrell dropped several bombshells."

 

"He was a fool without The Dark Lord's possession. Which brings me to the main reason why I called you here. The Headmaster has lost sight of The Order's goal. I regret to say he is more fixated on you than he is anything else, particularly with your displays of magic. Impressive Potter, I was unable to dispel your magic as quickly as I would have liked." A faint grimace crossed his expression.

 

"No detention for that?" He couldn't help but ask, cautiously drinking some tea and deeming it not poisoned as the ear studs did their job, drank more enthusiastically.

 

"Do not tempt me. Though temptation would not be enough to warrant giving you detention, the crime at hand needs to happen within Hogwarts grounds or Hogsmeade. However, if you are caught doing anything nefarious by me, there is nothing within the rules which can stay my hand."

 

Of course, he would take advantage of any wrongdoing of his. That way officially he could be punished for what he did, but unofficially what he did over the summer. Ever the opportunist, at least some people never changed.

 

After a moment of thought, Harry spoke up. "With what I've heard from Remus, I gathered that much myself. But why are you telling me this? I thought you were on Professor Dumbledore's side."

 

In that moment, the years of his life spent alongside Albus' side seemed to flash before him. At one point he was, undoubtedly. It was funny, really, for a man who walked the lines of light and dark for the sake of turning the tide and having a naturally dark disposition, the only thing he saw in the future was his vision of the greater good. It was only recently he began to realize that his idea of the greater good was not what he thought it would be.

 

Most would say he came to understand this too late. But, the only time it would be too late would be if Dumbledore achieved his vision. That was still in the future, Potter had the blinds ripped from his eyes over the summer and along with that, so did Severus.

 

"I am a spy, Potter. There is no side I am firmly on. I am bound to the Dark Lord through his mark and I am similarly bound to The Headmaster through blackmail." Severus saw no reason to hide anything. At this stage, Potter knew enough about him that this wouldn't affect anything.

 

Harry didn't expect that. He thought it would be more along the lines of gratitude as from what he was told by others, Snape was saved from certain death by Dumbledore as if he hadn't stepped in, he would've been convicted as a Death Eater and punished accordingly. "Blackmail?"

 

"Knowing that I was mistaken in joining the Dark Lord, I turned to The Headmaster. In order for him to not turn me over to the Ministry, he demanded partial access to the Prince Vault and my skills as a Potions Master through not just teaching at Hogwarts, but the creation of questionable and illegal potions with less than innocent intentions. Without taking the time to think, I agreed. Over a decade later, I am still bound by the decision I made when I was a much younger and less cautious man." Severus welcomed the black coffee as it quenched his thirst. Speaking about such things, particularly with a Potter, was enough to make him crave several cups of caffeine.

 

Harry, for his part, was floored. He couldn't even form a coherent sentence in his mind to speak aloud. He was sure that Dumbledore valued Snape, at least in the sense of more than a pawn, just like him. It seemed like he was wrong.

 

The Ministry would throw him into Azkaban without a trial, just like Sirius. Harry didn't know just how active Snape was in the Death Eaters. However, the glimpses he'd seen of him through his visions, he was not one of the ones torturing whatever victim Voldemort chose next. While they did all wear masks, It was hard not to spot someone you'd known for years. Even though he was watching through the eyes of another, his aura was unmistakable. Not to mention he was usually beside Malfoy senior and Bellatrix Lestrange.

 

Extortion was a new low for Dumbledore in his opinion. It certainly wasn't the action of any light leader. The potions, however, he found very interesting. What was he trying to do, exactly?

 

With all these thoughts and more running through his mind, he eventually managed to formulate a response.

 

"For all that Dumbledore condemns-" Here he was about to say Voldemort, but paused. When the Horcrux left him, what remained were memories. Specifically, memories of The Death Eaters. There were still thoughts he hadn't managed to access as of yet but what he did know was that Mr. Snakey made his name taboo. Not only that, but it sent a shockwave of pain through anyone who bore his mark. Taking Snape into consideration, he changed what he was going to say. "-Voldie's actions, he's just as if not more manipulative. Both of them saw the potential in you and both want to use your potential to further their own agendas. I honestly can't say I can side with either. I'm all for team Potter personally."

 

Severus barely withheld a snort. He was unable to refute Potter's claims, as he was correct. Albus had a large streak of Slytherin running through his very being and denying it was futile.

 

"Potter." At the slightly more severe tone, Harry cocked his head silently, gesturing with his eyes to continue. "You and I are trapped in the web of lies spun by both The Headmaster and the Dark Lord. I will inform him that Occlumency lessons will resume." At Harry's incredulous look, Severus sent him a sharp glare. "I do not want to roam through your mind more than I already have. This is what he will believe. The Dark Lord does not have regular meetings, he summons us no matter the time of day. The Headmaster schedules weekly Order meetings. Potter, you are the most proactive, more than the Dark Lord and 'Light Lord'. As a spy, my information is going to waste. As such, I wish to share it with you."

 

"You want to share it with me?" Harry repeated, slightly numb.

 

Severus admitted, even if only to himself, that it brought him some measure of satisfaction that he'd managed to render a Potter speechless. "As much as I loathe to mention it, your status carries influence. While you are underage there are those who will listen to you. Use the information as you wish, it is in better hands with you than with a man who sits, lemon drops at hand and waits until the problem is beyond fixing. I am aware that my treatment of you since your arrival at this school has not helped, however for the sake of mutual benefits, I propose that we overlook this."

 

"I can see what I get out of this easily, but what do you get out of it?" He asked, mind still trying to wrap around all he'd been told.

 

"I have not seen The Headmaster lose as much control as in the way which your actions have caused him to. While I believe that the idea of The Dark Lord's downfall to be left solely to you is ludicrous, you are one of the keys to turning the tide in this upcoming war. The changes you've undergone recently will give you a significant advantage, as the image he has in mind of you is a malnourished waif who favours Expelliarmus and not the confident and powerful person you have become."

 

After a brief pause, Severus held out his hand. "I will give you a choice, Potter. You are not obliged to accept this and if you do not, I will not speak to you outside of class again, unless it is related to your lessons. I suggest that you think wisely, for it is something I wished a possed a modicum of at your age."

 

All of a sudden, it was as though a heavy blanket was draped around his shoulders, the weight of responsibility pressing down. He listened to Snape's words seriously. As much as he had no relationship to speak of with the man, other than one built upon past loathing of another, he wasn't Dumbledore. He sugar coated nothing and what you see is what you get. Of course, he hid things, Harry had secrets of his own but not once could he remember Snape ever actively lying to him. There were no benefits to walking away, Harry knew just how important Snape was. He would say far more than himself, as he didn't fully believe in the prophecy. Once more he met the man's eyes, calm as the waters of the black lake.

 

It was only 30 seconds at most but to both men, it was as though time seemed to stretch for hours. In response, Harry reached for Snape's hand, gripping it in his own and shaking once.

 

"I accept," Harry spoke solemnly, releasing his grip.

 

"You may leave, Potter. I have taken up enough of your time. I will owl you details later." Though outwardly Severus remained the same, an undercurrent of relief ran through his system. It was an indication that a civil relationship between them was not out of the question. As a spy, he liked to see information put to use. Albus only delivered on his wish half of the time. He knew that Potter would use whatever he had to his advantage.

 

Harry nodded once, heading for the door. Before he left, he turned just his head around. "Professor?"

 

Severus raised an eyebrow in response.

 

"Thank you."

 

Before he could so much as blink, Potter was gone.

 

A Potter, apologizing and thanking him in one sitting? He was almost convinced Lothaire's irritating cheerfulness had driven him mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to tell you how much more thinking power it is for me to write Snape than the others, it's surprisingly tricky, especially trying to keep things realistic.


	60. Her Protectors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Harry makes his escape from Ron to visit Hagrid, he helps someone in a situation close to his own in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry and Snape come to an understanding and agreement, with Harry shaking the hand Snape held out to him.

It was a few days into his 6th year of Hogwarts and before Harry knew it, the weekend was already upon them. Ron's detention with Alistair was today and he found himself wondering what exactly his pseudo friend had to look forward to. Other than more detentions. Whenever he was approached by a fellow student, he was there as an ear for anyone to lend. Hermione was gently encouraging the younger students to have healthier studying habits without the crazed enthusiasm of her younger self and sometimes while she was in the library, would sit with students and help if needed. Once or twice he joined her if they happened to go to the library together.

 

Ron was the embodiment of everything which didn't make for Prefect material. Although it was only a few days in, it wasn't looking good. He was unhelpful, neglected his duties and though Harry hadn't seen him in action, he suspected this was why the Slytherin's house point count was barely increasing in comparison to the others. There wasn't a chance McGonagall would stand for this, regardless of the fact that Dumbledore personally appointed him. The cold glances he'd seen the Slytherins shoot Ron's way even before he'd had a chance to abuse his authority didn't bode well either. For Ron, of course. Harry was more than happy to watch the shit hit the fan.

 

Thankfully, he was saved from Ron tailing him this morning by the intense game of chess Dean and Seamus was partaking in. For everything Ron wasn't good at, the one thing he was unquestionably good at was Chess. Unable to pass up observing, it didn't take long before Harry made the most of the opportunity and left the common room behind.

 

Neville was with Professor Sprout, for what reason he was unsure of but perhaps to assist her, as he knew how much his fellow Gryffindor was passionate about Herbology even outside of lesson time.

 

As for Ginny, Luna, and Hermione, the five had a discussion earlier. He believed they were going to find out where the doorway in Shutaro leads to. They'd promised to meet up later in the day so they could fill Neville and Harry in on anything that may happen.

 

Occasionally greeting a student as he passed by, Harry walked the long familiar path to Hagrid's hut. He hadn't visited him much last year but if he were honest, he didn't make for the most pleasant company then and a twinge of guilt assaulted his system. Hagrid was the one who first showed him the Wizarding world after all. While he wasn't exactly the most efficient guide for someone who'd never known magic up until that point, he still appreciated that day as if it were yesterday. Not to mention Hedwig. While it would be easy for him to slip out and meet Remus, he didn't want her to feel neglected so he'd sent one or two letters. Even if he'd only admit it to himself, there was a certain charm about the whole process, even if it wasn't the quickest form of communication.

 

It was coming to the stone circle that raised voices caught his attention. It was a group of three students and only one he recognized.

 

It was Lilah. Everyone was allowed to be out of uniform on the weekends so Harry couldn't tell what house the others belonged to, though they all looked to be of similar age.

 

As he drew closer to the group, the voices became clearer to him, one of them reminding him of someone he'd rather forget, the sneer spread evenly throughout his tone.

 

"What do you think you're doing Caltir? You're a traitor to your house. Why have you been sorted into Gryffindor anyway?"

 

"Yeah, go hang out in the Snake Pit where you belong!" Another voice chimed in.

 

Though they looked to be her age, the boys were much taller than she was and immediately he received the same vibes he had from his childhood and not so long ago. Dudley Dursley and Piers Polkiss.

 

Lilah spoke back, her gaze not wavering though Harry could tell she was feeling intimidated. He had experienced this himself so it was easy for him to spot the signs in someone else.

 

"Don't you remember what Harry Potter said? Don't let narrow-minded views of others ruin what friendships you can make. Reach out to others, work together, start study groups and just help out. We are stronger united than we ever are alone." She recited, adding her own comment. "If you don't try to reach out to the other houses including Slytherin you're not getting the most out of Hogwarts."

 

Lilah had taken Harry's words to heart, determined to make the most of her experience here and not live out her school years following the pattern of not associating with Slytherin because that's how it had always been. It wasn't right. She was lucky to even be accepted into Hogwarts at all and to hear her fellow housemates shun her for wanting to talk with Slytherin was frustrating. Just in case, though she only knew a few simple spells from what she'd revised in her textbooks and class, she kept a firm grip on her wand, holster with spring action at the ready.

 

It wasn't the first time these boys had done this, it seemed as if from the moment they met, they disliked her and she couldn't understand why. The boy who had fallen silent was called Zain if she remembered correctly. He seemed to mimic his friend in picking on her, as she sensed no real malice behind his words, unlike Keith. It was one of her gifts. Rather than read people's minds, she could feel people's emotions as though they were her own. She didn't have much control over it as of yet, being in a huge crowd often made her feel a little ill but with a few people, she could separate her own and other people's emotions easier now.

 

Keith, on the other hand, flushed an ugly red. "You don't understand anything about how our world works, I don't know why they even accepted you here so shut up! You-You pale freak!" At once he drew his wand, pointing it at her and after a moment, Zain followed suit.

 

Lilah froze. An overwhelming wave of sadness washed over her and she couldn't even muster the energy to draw her wand in turn. It was always the same. She thought she was a nice approachable person and she loved to talk with anyone and everyone, fascinated by the stories they had to share. But, she still hadn't made any friends at home. At least here she had Dominic, but then who knew when he'd leave too? It was only a matter of time.

 

Harry was glad he was able to do Occlumency, as the number of memories the word freak triggered was almost staggering. He had to close his eyes for a brief second to regain control of his emotions and once he did, he made his way over to the three.

 

"Please tell me that you two don't have your wands pointed at an unarmed student because if you do, you're in trouble." He stated firmly, making eye contact with each of them and watched as they pocketed their wands, panicked.

 

"We were just talking, that's all!" The unofficial leader of the two looked to his friend for support, who hastily nodded.

 

"My definition of talking and your definition of talking must be two different things. What are your names?" Harry's tone of voice indicated it wasn't a request, but a demand.

 

"Keith Taylor." The more talkative of the boys muttered, defiance in his gaze.

 

"Zain Alford." The quieter of the pair offered, looking a little more contrite.

 

"If you were having a conversation with Miss Caltir you certainly wouldn't have your wands drawn or give her verbal abuse. You should treat your fellow housemates with respect, I won't stand for bullying. 5 points from each of your houses. Think before you act, the words you can speak can hurt someone in more ways than you think." He couldn't be more serious. He'd take the physical abuse over the mental he'd received any day.

 

"But we're in Gryffindor, you can't remove points from your own house!" Keith protested, wide-eyed.

 

Harry barely withheld his sigh, crossing his arms instead. "I can and I will, you're lucky it's not more. The fact that you're both in Gryffindor known for bravery is the worst and cornering someone is the height of cowardice. If I see or hear either of you bullying a student again, there will be more than house points removed. Do you understand?"

 

"Yes," Zain replied immediately, turning to Lilah. "Sorry, Caltir."

 

Harry could smell insincerity a mile off, but Mr. Alford sounded genuine with his apology. Keith however, offered no such thing, storming off.

 

"It's ok." Lilah said quietly to Zain, managing a small smile as he inclined his head, running off after Keith. Harry decided to ignore his disrespect as infuriating him further wouldn't help either of them.

 

"Are you alright, Lilah?" Harry asked, heart, thrumming in slight pain as her slightly watery gaze met his own.

 

"I will be. Thanks, Harry." Her smile crumbled, almost white hair shielding her face as she lowered her head.

 

It would take a long time for Harry to be comfortable to initiate physical contact but in a sense, he saw reflected in her eyes a shadow of himself when he was her age and with that in mind, he barely gave a thought to his nervousness of being rejected and softly embraced her, resting a hand on the back of her head.

 

Arms immediately wrapped around his own torso, as Lilah, just for a moment, let herself feel protected. Eventually, they pulled away, as Harry had an idea.

 

"Unless you have somewhere to be, do you want to visit Hagrid?" It might help improve Lilah's mood, as nothing else could compare to barely being able to lift the bucket-sized mug of tea and inedible rock cakes. Hagrid was all heart despite his gruff appearance and during his younger years, it never failed to cheer him up.

 

"Oh!" Her eyes widened in recognition. "The man who guided us across the lake. A lot of us fell in. Don't they have spells to prevent drowning or something? Hagrid was able to get us across ok but it doesn't seem safe." She frowned, looking puzzled. After a moment she looked up again. "But yeah sure! I'd like that." She finally gave him a real smile.

 

"You're right. You only travel that way to Hogwarts your first year, the rest of the time it's the carriages. Well for the most part." He amended, smiling wryly thinking of his second year. "Come on then."

 

Harry matched his pace with Lilah's as she told him about how she found Hogwarts so far. He was usually the one being cheered up by others, so to do so for someone else made a nice change.

 

 _'Are you alright Harry?'_   A brief flash of concern which he could see in his mind's eye more than actually feel it went through him. Alistair had spoken occasionally with him through the mental link they shared and Harry sometimes started the conversation first. Through this, he was no longer caught off guard and could usually carry a mental conversation with the other being none the wiser.

 

He was growing fonder of Alistair with each day that passed by and often he had to remind himself to not laugh out loud when around the general student body. While he was uncaring of stares these days, it was still better for them to think he was relatively sane. Occasionally they would broach the topic of Severus Snape and the mental images were enough for him to avert his eyes when he had his first Potions class so he didn't laugh. He was able to perform in class much better now that Snape was indifferent and Malfoy wasn't actively trying to sabotage him.

 

_'It's all good. I just removed points from my own house because they were bullying a fellow housemate. Some of the things they said triggered my own memories, that's all. I'm with the student now. I'm taking her to Hagrid's to help her cheer up.'_

 

_'Which student is it, if you don't mind my asking?'_

 

_'Lilah Caltir.'_

 

_'Ah yes, she was in my class yesterday afternoon. I had to reprimand one Mr. Taylor and Alford as they were sending her rude messages written on parchment across the classroom. I take it they were the same students?'_

 

_'Yeah. They had their wands pointed at her and she hadn't drawn her own.'_

 

Harry could sense the same kind of sigh which he'd withheld a short time ago. _'I will keep an eye on them. I abhor bullying of any kind and despite my infinite lifespan, I will never come to understand why everyone can't just get along.'_

 

 _'You and me both.'_   He thought, smirking to himself. _'Thanks. I'm worried about her truth be told. I helped her find a seat on the train and since then I'm growing fond of her.'_

 

 _'She is rather endearing, she was the most enthusiastic student, particularly with my start of class handshake.'_   After a moment Alistair continued, amusement lacing his voice. _'Hagrid is quite the character and easy to converse with. Anyone with such impressive physical strength I have to admire. I was considering asking him for an arm wrestle as I am admittedly curious to see just how strong he is.'_

 

An arm wrestle between a Vampire and a Half-Giant? Now there was something he'd like to see. _'If you decide to ask let me know, a certain pair of twins would definitely like to place bets on the winner.'_   He sent an image of Fred and George.

 

Harry's heart skipped a beat at his usual melodic laugh. _'If I do, you will be the first to know. I shall let you take your leave, have a lovely weekend.'_ A warm smile.

 

And that curious sensation again, the one that almost seemed like a kiss. He decided not to think on that more than necessary or his heart may just give out. after a moment, he realized they were now just outside of Hagrid's hut and with that, he knocked on the door.

 

"Down Fang!" He heard the usual boisterous barking of Fang and Hagrid presumably pulling him away from the door, which opened a second later.

 

"Arry! How are yeh?" Hagrid's face practically lit up as he crushed Harry, half lifting him off the ground in his excitement.

 

"Hagrid. Need. Air!" Harry managed to get out around gasps, hearing Lilah giggling below.

 

"Sorry about tha'." He placed Harry on the ground, instead patting his shoulder at which he couldn't help but wince at.

 

"Who's yer friend?" Hagrid asked, finally noticing the giggling girl.

 

"This is Lilah, she's in her 1st year. I thought if she wanted to experience Hogwarts in its entirety she couldn't pass up visiting you!" He offered a roguish grin.

 

Lilah stuck her hand out for him to shake and for once mindful of his strength, he took her hand in his own as carefully as he could.

 

"Th' more th' merrier!" He boomed, moving from the entrance and gesturing for them to come in.

 

As Harry followed Lilah indoors, he wondered how Ginny, Luna, and Hermione were doing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the way this had written itself (I do type this out but it's though the words have a mind of their own) Lilah and Harry are going to have some kind of sibling relationship, hope you all don't mind if that is what happens :P There's no way anyone will mess with her, not when she has a Vampire and Harry on her side xD


	61. Luna the Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duo is eager to see what they'll learn from the Fae until they're joined by an unwelcome somebody. That is until they're scared off by the last person either of them expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry had plans to visit Hagrid, but along the way came across Lilah, who joined him to meet the man for the first time this year.

Looking back at the moment with amusement, as they walked the halls of Hogwarts, Hermione recalled Harry practically running to escape Ron's clutches, taking advantage of his momentary distraction with Chess, as she and Ginny left just after him. Neville had about an hour earlier.

"Where are we meeting Luna? We never did discuss that exactly." She asked her friend, barely being able to restrain her excitement. Noticing this, Ginny subtly picked up the pace.

"Luna tends to come and go as she pleases, she hasn't changed much from our childhood. We'll probably come across her along the way or she's already there."

 

Before Hermione could respond, a voice which she was almost certain that she wouldn't have to hear until at least the evening rang out behind them.

 

"Hey, Herm, Gin, where are you off to?"

 

Almost in unison, two hands twitched, tempted to firmly grasp onto the wands in their possession. Hermione had told Ron she hated that name but in his usual state of blissful ignorance, he completely ignored her.

 

Ginny also hated her nickname. The number of times she'd hexed Fred and George for either Gin-Gin or an impression of their mum's 'Ginevra!' when she was in trouble was staggering. But at least they could fight back. Ron didn't stand a chance against her.

 

"And since when have you been our keeper, Ron?" Ginny raised her eyebrows in question, little sparks flying from her wand which the redhead eyed warily. "I thought you were watching Dean and Seamus."

 

"Their game finished." Shrugging, he approached them. "So, where are you going then?" The insistent tone, as though they had no choice but to tell him, irked Ginny. Sensing her friend's irritation, Hermione simply decided to watch from the sidelines. No one could quite pull off intimidation as much as Ginny.

 

"And that's your business, how?" Considering they were siblings, Ron should have had an indication that her casual tone was a lie. He just never seemed to learn.

 

"You're my little sister, of course, I've got to protect you. That and my girlfriend." He beamed, looking normal.

 

"What?!" Hermione cried out. "I don't remember our friendship changing in that manner." She narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"No, but it will." Ron's expression was so stupidly confident that Hermione was half wondering if she wasn't hit with a Confundus charm.

 

Shaking her head once, she gave him a glare. "Not in my world Ronald. While you are my friend you have about as much charm as a nest of Doxies."

 

Before Ron could even so much as respond, Ginny approached him, one slow step at a time, until she invaded his personal space. He seemed to visibly shrink beneath her heated glare.

 

"Ron," growling, she furrowed her brows. "We're in Hogwarts. While it's not the safest as the past few years have shown us, there are people like Professor McGonagall who can help and even if there was any danger, I'm more than capable of handling it, or did you forget that I went to the Department of Mysteries as well?"

 

Ron shrugged, uncaring. "Yeah, I know. You shouldn't have gone though, a battlefield is no place for you, especially after what you know who did to you."

 

"I was 11, Ron! I was a tool to the shade of a dark wizard, I had no choice!" Shouting, her voice eventually faded, to be replaced with a quiet calm. She took in a deep breath. "Fighting with you all, that was my choice. I won't stand by and watch everyone I care about risk their lives for me, I will help, no matter what."

 

"Even if you die?" He asked incredulously. "I won't let you." He looked at her for a minute. "You're not strong enough to fend for yourself." Scoffing, he made to walk over to Hermione. Or he would've if something very large and dangerous wasn't close to shaving the skin off his nose.

 

The thin tendril of patience she'd had with her brother, all throughout summer and up until now, snapped. She was close with Ron insulting Luna, but Harry's anger saved her from her own towards him, not to mention amusement at Harry's story of Ron's blunder in his detention, that gave her immense satisfaction.

 

But to be effectively told she was weak by Ron of all people? She knew if he actually applied himself in lessons he could be a formidable wizard but instead from what she knew growing up with him and hearing from Hermione, he close to slack off in lessons and up until recently, dragged Harry down with him. She was glad Harry was away from Ron's influence. She cared for him as yet another sibling and as much as she loved Ron, there were times when she wondered if he wasn't actually adopted.

 

Her innocence gone in her early Hogwarts years, so with it went the natural drive to do well in school, make friends, everything which a normal 11-year-old did. It became more than that. Ginny went above and beyond what was expected of her, more than most knew. The weakness of her mind as it was influenced by the diary had shaken her so much, that a lot of the free time she had was spent learning new ways to protect herself, to be strong. To be strong enough that something like this would never happen again. It was why she'd improved upon her Occlumency skills, though Pureblood families usually taught their children the basics, her mind was left wide open after that year. But not now. Anyone who tried to read her mind would be in for a nasty shock. She wasn't sure if she could last against Dumbledore, but she could hopefully distract him until she was at a safe distance.

 

It was a struggle to restrain herself, but she didn't even try to all the way. Instead, she casually pressed her thumb into the indent of her stud, quickly casting a featherlight charm. Within a few seconds, the Glaive was in her firm grasp and she didn't waste any time, pointing it at his face.

"Ron, this is Shattered Blaze. Shattered Blaze, meet Ron. Ron is looking to die a slow and painful death, do you think you can help?" While she was speaking to the weapon with a cheerful note, her eyes sparked with a burning fury which never left his own trembling ones.

 

"W-Where did you get that?" Stammering, he barely managed to get his words out, going cross-eyed as the sharp blade drew even closer.

 

Ginny and Ron were so focused on each other and Hermione on watching the pair, that they didn't notice an extra presence.

 

"Wrackspurts are attracted to you, I have a pair of Spectrespecs you can use so they leave you alone." Her head was tilted, eyes following something surrounding the taller boy that only she could see.

 

The three jumped, none of them realizing Luna was there.

 

Ron turned the colour of curdled milk, his eyes leaving the tip of the glaive, looking at Luna as though she were an apparition.

 

"AAAAAAAHHHH!" Startled, Ginny took a step back, replacing Shattered Blaze as unbelievably the scream was from Ron and not, in fact, a banshee. He ran in the opposite direction from them as fast as he possibly could, narrowly avoiding colliding with another student as he turned the corner. The only one not affected was Luna, who watched Ron go curiously, head still tilted to the side.

 

"Poor Ron." Luna's eyes looked slightly melancholic. "His brain is really fuzzy thanks to them."

 

Luna turned back to face her friends, looking as calm and composed as she always did.

 

Hermione and Ginny shared a look. Eye contact was only brief but that was all it took for the pair to descend into laughter. While Ginny certainly intimidated Ron, it was Luna who scared him off. Sweet, unassuming Luna of all people. Hermione managed to regain her bearings and helped Ginny up, who'd collapsed to the floor in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, as she wiped traces of tears from her cheeks.

 

"We have to tell Harry and Neville about this." She gasped out, breathing deeply to calm down.

 

"If I could frame that moment, I would." Hermione added, leading the way for the three, back to 'Lunaland.'

 

* * *

 

 

While Ginny and Hermione may look out of place skipping instead of walking, the action seemed to be tailored to Luna as a person, as she wasted no time opening the door to the Room of Requirement.

 

It looked the same as it always did, nothing out of place from the last time they were there, aside from the addition of Shutaro's doorway and with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, Hermione looked over at her companions.

 

"I have a feeling that we won't return to this room the same as when we left. As much as Harry has a part to play, it seems as if we do too."

 

"Yes." Ginny agreed, eyes glinting with determination.

 

"Shutaro said don't worry, The Elder is expecting our arrival, along with the Fae," Luna spoke softly, giving the tree one affectionate pat.

 

"It's hard not to worry when you're traveling to a word entirely different from your own," Hermione muttered, though in truth she was too curious for nerves to affect her much.

 

Luna stepped through first, and after a glance at one another, Ginny and Hermione followed suit.

 

Where they all arrived next was obviously of another world, but strangely had the same mystical atmosphere as Luna's mindscape brought to life.

 

As soon as Luna arrived, all she could feel was peace. It was soothing and somehow familiar to her, though she was quite certain she'd never travelled to anywhere like this. She caught the attention of the few fae in the room, more coming over to see the three as they emerged from the elder tree, with a similar doorway to Shutaro.

 

A low murmur of hushed voices disturbed the calm and Ginny couldn't help but shuffle nervously, as Hermione looked around in curiosity and interestingly enough, a small smile appeared on Luna's face.

 

The attention they attracted was enough for one Fae to step forward, as they had to crane their necks slightly to meet her vibrant gaze.

 

"Childe of Sun, Childe of Moon, Childe of Bloom, we Fae welcome you to our home. My name is Nihri. This must be sudden for you all but with our help," She gestured to four other Fae behind her, "You will come to understand. Follow us, please." None of the trio spoke, but Hermione's and Ginny's nerves were settled with Nihri's calming tone. Hermione expected a lot more hostility but then again, she couldn't judge every race by what she'd seen from others.

 

A pair of sparkling blue eyes locked curiously onto Luna's own and in response, she gave a little wave. The owner of them seemed taken aback for a moment but eventually looked away, deep in thought.

 

Luna didn't mind at all. She was wondering if there were any hidden creatures she'd find on her travels here to tell her father about, as in her opinion, there was always something new to discover, no matter where she was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half of that was so stupid, I know xD I seriously couldn't get the idea out of my head and I spent the entire time writing it with a smirk on my face :P


	62. The Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Ginny and Hermione were curious and a little wary of their new surroundings, Luna almost felt at home. What awaits the three?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Ron received the fright of his life as Luna, Ginny and Hermione passed through Shutaro's doorway.

While Hermione and Ginny stuck closer together due to the unfamiliar setting and its people, Luna was more than happy to skip along behind the Fae, her wide blue eyes shining in delight as she drank in the tranquillity of their home.

 

They came to a small clearing slightly removed from the main area, a large door which looked to be a combination of vines and leaves in front of them. The three kept their attention focused on Nihri while Hermione had a feeling that nothing they'd learn today would shock Luna in the slightest.

 

"This is my and Master Gareon's home." She gestured to a Fae who looked remarkably human-like. "We are Autumn Fae, however, the writings concerning you affect all of Fae kind and while some of us are not on good terms, you take precedence over this, which is why representatives of the Spring, Summer, and Winter courts are with us. They will work individually with you in order to best utilize your gifts. Master Gareon will show you how to work effectively as a team unit in battle and I will be here to offer advice and guidance should any of you need it. Time passes by differently here to your world, so there is no worry. You will not be missed by those who seek you."

 

Hermione and Ginny collectively breathed a sigh of relief. While Luna had saved them all from the annoyance that was Ron, it would grow tiresome if he continued to decide to tail more than just Harry.

 

After a short while, they were paired with the Fae who would assist them, parting ways through the door which, once opened, split into three separate paths. Exchanging signs of good luck, they each went their separate ways.

 

* * *

 

 

Taibreah-Drenn, the fae that had introduced herself to Ginny, had encouraged her to walk side by side. Vivid orange hair shaved at one side, it glowed with an ethereal light. Her height was a little intimidating as Ginny only reached just below her chest, but she didn't feel threatened. Instead, she admired the confidence evident in her frame.

 

Skin the colour of peach and sharp red eyes caught Ginny's attention. But unlike Voldemort, these red eyes were filled with a burning passion, not all-consuming hatred. A broadsword much larger than Ginny's Glaive rested on her back, armor polished to the point where the reflections of their surroundings could be seen, if close enough.

 

"We shall both make the most of the opportunity that we have been blessed with. Let us work well together." A soft smile.

 

While Nihri's accent was Irish, as were her fellow Fae of the Autumn court, Drenn's was a variant of English, well spoken. Ginny was unsure if this applied to every seasonal fae, but it seemed to be a running theme.

 

Eventually, the duo came to a halt, where Ginny could see nothing but open space and blue skies, almost unrealistically so.

 

Drenn came to a halt, facing her. "I will assume that you know how to summon your gift?" Ginny nodded once and looking satisfied, she continued. "While mortal magic will assist with your gift, it is best for you to build the physical strength to successfully wield him, to be not solely reliant on your magic. While you have the innate talent for fire magic and you will be able to channel that, you will need to rely on your strength if there is ever a time where magic cannot be used."

 

Ginny understood that. She agreed, in fact. Imagining Death Eaters thinking they had the upper hand because she was disarmed of her wand, only to threaten them with a very pointy weapon, her lips twitched with mirth. Oh, to see Lucius Malfoy's pretty boy face alight with shock would give her no small amount of pleasure, the bastard.

 

"Building physical strength is something which you can do in your own time here or if you have a spare moment, at your home. All that will be required are practice swings but any physical activity outside of this will help. You can use your magic to help channel your strength though I would only recommend a little."

 

"How do I channel magic into it, exactly?" She had a faint idea but wanted to be sure.

 

"I will show you." Drenn held her own weapon, blade in both hands, point facing the ground.

 

"Like with any magical focus, picture the magic flowing freely through your body, to pool at the destination. It is the same feeling you have when using a wand. Though our focuses are a little different to yours, the result is the same. Would you be so kind as to conjure targets for me?" She asked, her blade glowing with a soft light.

 

Picturing the practice dummies in the DA, Ginny conjured a row of three for Drenn, watching intently.

 

The blade glowed brighter, to the point where it warmed the breeze in the air. Without moving from her position, She swung her greatsword in a wide arc and with the moving of air, the magic which coated it shot forward, to hit one of the targets. It was cut clean in half, with the faint scent of charred wood.

 

"Cool..." Ginny spoke aloud, causing Drenn to laugh. "What I did there is a little more difficult to pull off. While the idea behind it is similar to when you use your wand, the focus it takes is greater due to the amount sometimes needed and the physical strength to accomplish this. It is as much about endurance as it is being able to fight. If you plan to incorporate magic into your physical fighting I would recommend training to increase your magic reserves. For now, however, I will teach you how to coat him with magic."

 

"Why do you refer to it by him or gift?" Ginny asked, curious. "Why not Shattered Blaze?"

 

"We do not have the right to the given name, as we have not been chosen. Only you have the right to that." She gave a casual shrug. "It is the way it has always been."

 

Nodding in acceptance, Ginny was pushed to her limits but in the process, gaining a sharper control of magic, how to hold herself in battle and an even distribution of her weight, not to mention effective ways to tackle an enemy. Though it was only the first hour, Ginny was looking forward to what this training would do for her in the future.

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione had no idea how you could go from the surroundings she'd just been in, to a cavern filled with stalactites and stalagmites but as always, she'd write it off as a combination of nature and magic and leave it at that. Unlike the fae Hermione had seen, Esha was only slightly taller than she was and while Fae had a long lifespan, she looked to be Hermione's age physically, perhaps a little younger.

 

She wore wind braids, a similar shade of green to Harry's eyes and dressed in traditional hunter's garb, with a cape resembling a giant leaf. With each step taken, it was as though she walked on air. Her feet barely touched the ground. She intrigued Hermione, particularly her flower-shaped markings and golden eyes like pinpricks of light in the dim setting. It was odd to think that pale green skin could suit someone since it was such an odd colour but to Hermione, Esha couldn't be Esha without that particular feature.

 

"I'm so excited! I've never met a mortal before! You HAVE to tell me what it's like over there! I've never left my home you see up until now, it's my first time visiting the other Fae. This is going to be fun!"

 

She practically bounced all over the place with a childish energy and Hermione smiled, identifying her Welsh accent. If she had to guess, as there were four seasons, there must be four ways of speaking for each representative. There was Irish for Autumn, Welsh for Spring, and though it was an educated guess on Hermione's part, English for summer, as Summer used to be Sumor, originating from Old English. Not that it made any difference of course, but she was used to picking up on bits of information and working with them to come to a solution. She found everything curious, perhaps more so since her change over the year.

 

"I await your teaching." Hermione gestured for her to continue, fingers itching to take notes, though she didn't have a notebook on her person.

 

"Honestly, it's pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I've got arrows with mine," She gestured to the quiver on her back. "But you won't need arrows though you can use them if you like. She uses your raw magical energy. For now, try with regular arrows. I brought some extra with me." She threw another quiver over to Hermione, which she caught. Outside of Archery in primary school, she wasn't well versed with how to knock back arrows so starting from the basics would benefit her.

 

The cavern was illuminated with the touch of a sconce until one after another, a row of them that Hermione hadn't noticed up until now helped to see their surroundings better. Esha fired arrows herself, as Hermione took note of her posture doing so. Her target resembled a dummy, only made of stone.

 

A few arrows later, she turned to her. "Want to give it a shot?"

 

It was a lot harder than Hermione had anticipated and Esha didn't look like the kind of person to lie, so to hear that she was pretty good for her first proper attempt was reassuring.

 

"Here's something for you." Esha touched an arrow with her finger, the wood now ingrained with green runes. Aiming, she pulled back harder than the first few arrows and once it hit the target, Hermione's eyes widened.

 

From the point of impact was a series of mini explosions, starting from the center and once bits of debris hit the floor, it created a chain of them until a few seconds later, eventually died.

 

Esha gave her a Cheshire Cat grin. "Nice, huh? You can do the same but you don't need arrows. Like with your focus, just imagine the spell you need and shape it. It all depends on your accuracy but once you have that, there'll be no problem. The more practice you get, the better formed into arrows your spells will be." She stepped back, gesturing with her hand.

 

Hermione approached this as she would any problem, appreciating that knowledge over physical experience wouldn't save her every time. She picked Ginny's second speciality, Reducto. The power behind it and the damage it caused. She noted Esha repairing the rock her arrow previously obliterated.

 

Though there was no arrow, she imagined her magic in its purest form, that there really was an orange and very destructive arrow.

 

She was beginning to think nothing was happening until there was something faint. She could see it.

 

"That's it, Hermione, you almost got it!"

 

Spurred on by Esha's words of encouragement, Hermione applied the same focus to this as she did during her classes and slowly but surely, an orange arrow appeared. It was strange to touch a solid version of her own spell and while it wasn't perfect, it would do for the first one.

 

She was unsure how much time had passed but she could at least get the distance down. Her accuracy was something she needed to work on but at least, for this...

 

She had a moment of feeling like Robin Hood and entertained herself with the thought of robbing Malfoy Manor and donating what she found to orphanages.

 

Then, she allowed her mind to clear of everything but her target and let loose.

 

It was a faint blur of orange in the distance but that didn't matter. The spell crumbled everything in its path, including a chunk of the cavern wall.

 

"Oh yeah!" Esha jumped on the spot in glee. "I'm going to love working with you."

 

Hermione couldn't help but feel the same way.

 

* * *

 

 

Almost simultaneously, Ginny and Hermione sensed a feeling of tranquility in the air. Any nerves, tension, and scenery disturbed by fighting were wiped clean, everything returning to how it naturally should be. Their minds were clear, calm. It was curious, as their companions shared similar feelings, completely out of the blue.

 

The duo wondered in that moment, how was Luna getting on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that, this chapter was a last minute rush, I fell behind schedule O.O I'd normally have it sorted by the weekend but things happened, so yeah! Hope it doesn't come across too rushed.
> 
> ~Absolutely no title or summary inspiration this time :(


	63. A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna had never felt more at home or at ease in a place she'd never been before. She always knew it was a good idea to take her good luck charms wherever she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Hermione and Ginny meet their mentors and get some idea of what's in store for their futures.

For most of her life, more so since her mother passed away, Luna was left feeling discontent, though looking at her, no one could ever tell. She experienced the feeling of loss and loneliness in her younger years as often, her father would consume himself with their mutual love of strange magical creatures to drown the sorrow of his wife passing. Not that he ever shared those feelings with her but he never needed to. She was unusually sensitive to them, more so if they were about her.

 

During that period of time, she changed, never losing her unique way of thinking but all throughout it, left feeling as though something was missing. She did wonder if it was some yet undiscovered creature which caused this side effect but somehow, she knew that wasn't the case.

 

Arriving in the world of the fae, it was as though a puzzle piece previously beyond reach was now in her grasp and it fit perfectly. While she was positive that not even in her dreams had she visited this wonderfully unique world, it nevertheless resonated with her in a startling clarity.

 

How she could miss somewhere when it was her first time Luna didn't know, but the feeling of loss wasn't as deep as it was before coming here.

 

Curiously, she looked at her companion. Granted she struggled with this task as he was taller than even some of the other male fae.

 

Whiter than the snow which often blanketed Hogwarts, his hair twisted into a french braid ponytail, swaying against his lower body, his strides reduced in consideration for the sake of his smaller travelling companion.

 

Sir Brio, as that was the name Luna was given, had an aura of cold. Not personality, but magic. Though certainly, the blue hue of his skin would suggest nothing but cold. However, she sensed none of that, enjoying the swirling patterns on his silver robes, as they were very pretty.

 

Luna knew instinctively that she would come to no harm with him. There was the type of kindness found in someone who often didn't know how to express it physically, but it was there. She was curious at the ocean coloured gaze of his earlier and if he found what he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

 

When he first set eyes on this mortal, there was a feeling of kinship, unlike anything he'd ever experienced, even with his fellow brothers and sisters. While it was true within their own courts they were close, Brio tended to keep to himself, though he had a civil relationship with those he lived with. The same couldn't be said for the others, the only exception being Nihri. Truly, he was unsure if there was anyone who wasn't fond of her across all the courts, a rarity. He often kept to himself, only speaking when he deemed it necessary, perhaps why they saw him as unapproachable.

 

For most of his life, he had dedicated it to using his magic for the better, primarily to heal, much to the surprise and scepticism of those who didn't know him, thinking he would prefer offensive spells rather than defensive. Truly, his talents lay in the healing and shielding arts though if it came down to it, he could hold his own in battle. The honorific before his name wasn't just for show.

 

In all his years of living, he had never encountered such an enigma. Why did he immediately feel as if he knew this mortal, a human at that, as though she were one of his kind?

 

He looked down at her, only to be met with pale blue eyes in return. The mortal smiled at him and he was taken aback, used to either grimaces or glares being thrown in his direction. He was more than aware his own people found him intimidating, let alone a human, but this one didn't seem to be phased at all. She didn't seem human, the way she held herself and even her physical appearance suggested something otherworldly. He couldn't help but think that, matching her pace as they walked side by side.

 

Semi aware of her surroundings so as not to trip, Luna's eyes visibly lit up, patting the bag she always carried with her, no matter the occasion. It was filled with cork necklaces, from more than just butterbeer and some she'd even asked Harry if he could find. While there were regular necklaces, she'd taken to transfiguring the corks into different charms, but still keeping the cork itself intact, only altering the shape. Outside appearances wouldn't affect its magic any, as long as the inside remained the same. She'd left a Firewhisky cork necklace in the shape of a cauldron on Professor Snape's desk at the end of her lesson with him. While there was a chance he'd thrown it away, she dearly hoped he'd keep it close. While everyone thought it was more than likely a placebo effect, Luna poured every emotion she could into making them, so that a part of her would be with the recipient, protected at least a little.

 

With this in mind, she picked one of her regular butterbeer cork necklaces not altered in any way, shape or form, as natural as the day she found it. This one would be perfect.

 

"Brio, I got a present for you!" She exclaimed, beaming. She couldn't help herself. It didn't matter whether she was giving or receiving them, presents never failed to make her excited.

 

Brio had made such a reputation for himself that no one even assumed they were allowed to call him by first name only. The only ones with the right to do that were his family, who were long gone or grudgingly, Nihri. Normally he'd shoot a chilling glare at those who didn't know him with a reminder to not be so casual but looking into this human's innocent eyes with not a hint of deception, the thought of correcting her never crossed his mind.

 

A frown marred his fair features, slowing down as Luna came to a standstill. "Why?" In truth, the question was for more than right now, but he would be satisfied if at least one of them had an answer.

 

"Because you're my friend. Haven't you gotten a present before?" She was intending to be slightly teasing, but she didn't expect his reply. 

 

"No." Brio couldn't understand this mortal and for the sake of politeness, he would call her by her given name. Once he'd reached that point, there was no turning back. Why would she gift him with something when they'd just met, and when had they become friends? The last time he was this discomposed was during his training as a child and that was a long time ago, even by fae standards.

 

A wave of sorrow passed over Luna. He hadn't received a present before? She couldn't imagine it. It was very rare that she disliked someone, let alone hated them and giving gifts always made her happy.

 

"Well, today is a day of changes." She spoke firmly, happy to spread the joy of gift giving as she held her hand out, necklace in her palm. He looked down, studying her intently.

 

A soft giggle escaped her lips, seeing his confusion. "It's a butterbeer cork necklace, they're for all of my friends and if you look after them, they'll look after you."

 

She looked from her palm to him. When stretching her highest, she still wouldn't come even close to Brio's neck. She was contemplating whether she should just levitate it when Brio's eyes met hers, this time from her own height.

 

Brio was unsure why he did it, as he could simply take this strange looking necklace from her but he could see that for some reason, she wanted to put it on him. She was open with her expressions, but her actions, he couldn't even begin to predict. He crouched, far enough down so they averaged the same height.

 

"Thank you." He didn't know what to say other than that or how he should appropriately react. The closest to any form of gifts he'd received were weaponry all to do with part of his role, so that didn't count. This was something beyond his comprehension.

 

She said nothing, giving him her brightest smile. He was happy, he just didn't know that he was. She could sense his emotions better than anyone else's, but the reason why eluded her.

 

She slipped the necklace over his head gently, the string resting on top of his ponytail. She lifted his long hair from underneath and her eyes twinkled at how silky it was to the touch. She had the urge to run her fingers through it but refrained, letting go and taking a step back.

 

He stiffened at her touch but it was so brief, he needn't have worried. For that small period of time, it was as though she were handling something delicate and fragile, unaware that a touch could feel so curious yet gentle.

 

"I hope that we have fun together." She returned to her usual serene tone, but inside she was bursting with joy and unable to help herself, she reached out and took his hand in her own, hers almost swallowed by the size of his, as she skipped cheerfully, sensing their destination wasn't far off.

 

Brio couldn't prevent the widening of his eyes even if he wanted to. No one was comfortable around him. There were times where he was uncomfortable with himself, even, and one of the smallest mortals he'd ever laid eyes on willingly touched him, even though if he desired, he could crush every bone in her hand. As much as some of the select members of the Summer court believed he'd take delight in such things, that was not the case. He'd sooner heal than hurt and though bewildered, he accepted her kind touch, his curious and slightly thawed gaze compared to previously at least, watching and wondering if she would differ from the fae students he'd taught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, last week flew by and just about every chapter doesn't go how I plan it to but most of the time it's not a bad thing :P Have a good Halloween if anyone celebrates!


	64. Soothing Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Luna and Brio work together, they're not the only ones benefitting from their exchange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: We see how Luna is getting along with her mentor, with Brio coming across one unexpected surprise after another.

The answer to Brio's question of if she would differ from the other students he'd taught was a resounding yes, despite the fact that he hadn't started yet. The students under his care were always well aware of him and his reputation and usually arrived at their lessons with equal parts respect and trepidation but leaving stronger than when they came. He had no experience teaching females and the majority of male students were focused on purely offensive moves. While he was certain he taught to the best of his abilities, he failed to understand why one of the many others in the winter court didn't undertake offensive teachings if they enjoyed it so much. His passion lay in healing and the only enjoyment he received from teaching was the end result and not the process.

 

Luna, as he sternly told himself to call her instead of mortal, was not only a different gender to what he was used to but a human too. When Nihri had contacted him for aid with the three mortals, it didn't take him too long to make his decision. Not one of their kind was ignorant about the children of Sun, Moon, and Bloom as it was vital for them to offer aid if they were to show themselves and they did, indirectly through the gemstones which the first mortal in centuries found, only shown to those who connected directly or indirectly with their prophecy. Through this, the children were found and here Brio was, guiding the child of Moon.

 

He would have to take a different approach as he knew even without speaking directly that her preference lay in healing and defense. It was easy to sense those of similar dispositions and as he found out, this didn't differ across species.

 

Still holding Brio's hand, Luna altered her skipping pace back to walking, her surroundings changing almost instantly. She could have blinked and missed the transformation.

 

Even if she stretched to look at the sky as far as she could, the tops of the trees so similar looking to Shutaro wouldn't fill her vision. What did instead, was the gentle pale glow of moonlight, helping to light the way. She had never seen the moon as close as it was, almost as though it could be touched.

 

Off to the side was a small pond. To others, it would look out of place but to Luna, it was just right. A single flower floated on the water, looking to embody purity itself as it drank in the moonlight, tiny ripples disturbing the otherwise smooth surface.

 

"So lovely," Luna spoke quieter than she usually did, reluctant to disturb their tranquil surroundings.

 

"The Eireachdail Woods, named for the Moon which eternally shines," Brio spoke, tone equally soft. He watched Luna in puzzlement, as she removed her socks and shoes, banishing them with a wave of her wand.

 

"Nargles steal my shoes, but sometimes I like to feel the nature for myself." A peaceful smile, more natural than her usual expression seemed to add a further air of tranquility, burying her toes in the soft grass.

 

Brio had always kept the soles of his feet bare, not believing in walking on blessed soil with something manually crafted by his kind. All courts were close to nature, some more than others but all respected it in its purest form, but to see a human do so was unexpected.

 

The slight tension in his muscles relaxed, seeing that with every minute that passed by, the chances of Luna causing him trouble were unlikely. Added to the fact that she'd released his hand. He wasn't averse to her touch strangely, simply unused to physical contact from another.

 

As Luna took a seat on the grass, toes still buried and watching the pond with childlike wonder, she turned her focus from it to Brio, now seated beside her.

 

"This flower surfaces and blooms once per decade, we are fortunate to see it." He had only once in his lifetime before, as when per decade was never specified. It was purely down to chance whether it would show itself.

 

"Does it have a name?" Luna asked, wanting to engrave it in her heart as it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

 

He looked over at her, the stirrings of what could be a smile quirking his lips. "There is no name. It simply is."

 

Luna required no explanation, as not everything needed to have a name. It was just a label to define one thing from another. This flower didn't need anything to define it, it was unique in its own right.

 

"Let us continue." Brio stood up and after a moment's thought offered the hand which not so long ago was held, helping Luna to her feet. Matching her pace once more, they walked a little further, coming to a small clearing, trees still surrounding them both.

 

"There are many places to learn, but these woods are untainted. They have never seen bloodshed or battle which was not part of nature and are best suited for healing."

 

"Does that mean, everywhere else is tainted?" Luna asked hesitantly, worrying her bottom lip.

 

Though his expression remained the same, Brio's eyes couldn't hide the flicker of sorrow which Luna caught. After a moment of silent debate, he gave a soft sigh.

 

"You are right. While we seek to protect, the impurity of fighting comes at the cost of purity from our world."

 

Pressing her thumb against the indentation, Luna held Gentle Whisper, her heart strongly beating with the desire to help however she could.

 

"Will you show me?" Her earnestness reached Brio and he nodded once.

 

"I sense that you have used healing magic before, but your gift requires you to use it in a different way. It is reliant on intent as with all magic, but to protect and heal requires emotion. You must place the desire you feel not into words, but into your magic. The best way for me to demonstrate is to allow you to experience this yourself."

 

Brio rarely had lesson plans, having a firm idea of what he wanted to accomplish in the short space of time waiting for his students. Absurdly enough he was slightly nervous initiating contact with Luna. With his strength, there was never a reason to hold back as none of his students were children. While Luna was young she held a strange maturity, but she was far more delicate than what he was used to dealing with, slightly concerned he'd end up unintentionally harming her.

 

Standing behind her, he placed his hands hesitantly on her shoulders, careful not to press down. While he realized she was likely not as fragile as she appeared to be, telling himself this seemed to not help at all.

 

He kept a level, calm tone. "Focus on the emotion, my intent is not important for the moment. While my emotions may differ from yours, the desire to heal remains the same."

 

Still careful with his hands, Brio welcomed the free feeling. Unlike attack magic which was called upon forcefully to serve a purpose, healing and protection magic worked with the caster, leaving the fingertips or focus more naturally. Slowly he closed his eyes, at peace for the first time in a while.

 

When meeting Brio, Luna had never once thought of him as scary, though she knew the other Fae would perhaps disagree with her. The closest to scary she'd encountered was the lack of Nargles with Professor Umbridge, meaning that her brain wasn't fuzzy doing all that she did.

 

Even now with his hands on her shoulders, there was no pressure at all, as if he was afraid she'd shatter beneath his touch.

 

 _'His consideration is endearing.'_   Luna couldn't help but think that, eyes sparkling when the refreshing touch of magic was made known to her.

 

Although she was very good with emotions, the feeling of another's magic was something entirely new and exciting. It was a breath of fresh air, so clean and light. She was almost disappointed that the air itself was nothing like Brio's magic but the more it surrounded her, the more revitalized she felt in heart, body, and soul. She couldn't help but think if the air were like this, everyone would be happier.

 

Brio's magic helped to focus herself, as she held Gentle Whisper with both hands, closing her eyes and letting herself relax.

 

_'Hello pretty world, my name is Luna. Will you let me help you?'_

 

She took Brio's instruction to heart, feeling instinctively that the time was right. She truly wished for everywhere to be at peace, not just these woods. Letting this desire fill her, her magic joined with Brio's, distorting the breeze with a faint whisper of colour.

 

He was going to stop the flow of his magic and let Luna try on her own, but there was no need for him to. She was a natural. Her magic touched him. It was warm. Not the heat of the summer court, but a warmth he'd associate with comfort, a blanket on a colder night. It was almost nostalgic in a way, reminding him of memories long past which he was sure he'd forgotten. It was a strange sensation, particularly since he hadn't encountered magic of his own kind that wasn't intense or overwhelmingly powerful. Luna's held a different kind of strength.

 

As their magic was released, it carried upon the winds, their mutual desire to heal heard, even if it was only by magic itself. Slowly but surely, their wish spread across the land, damage to it undone and in some cases of the more battle-hardened fae, mental trauma soothed. It was not perfect by any means, but only time would heal further. With this, the magic dissipated, as the pair opened their eyes.

 

"Oh, that was wonderful!" Luna cried out, happily spinning around on the spot, arms stretched to either side. "Does it always feel like this?"

 

Brio wasn't as guarded as before, his eyes a little softer. "Usually, but not as strong, our joined magic producing a slightly different effect." He eyed her with respect. "You did very well for your first time, it will not take long to teach all that you need to know."

 

Without warning, she took hold of his hand again. This time he only tensed a little, following her to the ground as she sat and losing count of the number of things he'd done today which he wouldn't normally, sat beside her again.

 

Luna lay down face up, hair splayed around her as she looked at Brio, a soft smile on her face. "I look forward to it." Gently exhaling, she watched almost trance-like, the stars glittering.

 

"The stars are so pretty."

 

Glancing over at his companion for a moment, Brio also lay down. Though he had stargazed many times in this manner, it was always alone. It was the first time he'd shared a moment like this with another.

 

"I'm home." Whispering this to herself, they enjoyed the comfortable silence.

 

Unlike Hermione and Ginny which shared mentors who were both relentless in their own ways, explaining strategies and how best to use their strength, Luna and Brio were more relaxed, both learning something along the way. While most of the time was spent practising magic flow, healing and the different types of defence magic, some of the time was a little insight into what the other person was like. While Luna was happy to gain another friend, Brio was experiencing the unfamiliarity of having one as while he was civil with Nihri, he couldn't say they were close.

 

All seemed to lose track of time, but none more so than Luna and Brio. For the first time in her life, she was happy and he was more at ease than ever, which made him feel slightly uncomfortable at the unnaturalness of that fact.

 

Silently, The Eireachdail Woods watched over the recent arrivals. They had waited centuries for this moment and at last, it had arrived. Their thanks for the aid to the land was conveyed as the flower, unnoticed to them, glowed brighter than before. It would stay, content to watch the ones that had piqued its interest enough to surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had some time to think since the last chapter but the more I do, the more I just want to make this happen. I know at least one person does but how do you all feel about a Luna/Brio pairing? :)
> 
> ~Summary is meh, if I think of something better I'll add it xD


	65. Fragmented Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Harry was planning to do is visit Hagrid with Lilah and he had, but not without complications afterward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Luna works with Brio, her new mentor, bringing peace with them.

 

***TRIGGER WARNING***

 

_****In this chapter, there's talk of suicide and suicidal thoughts. I wanted to let you all know because I don't want any of you to go into this and feel horrible after reading because I didn't inform you beforehand._

 

* * *

 

 

The urge for Harry to relieve himself for an hour was strong, as he left Hagrid's hut with Lilah. Even if the rock cakes weren't fit for consumption, the tea was good. He managed to drink the entire cup without realizing, more focused on conversing with Hagrid.

 

"Did you enjoy yourself?" He asked Lilah, turning to her as they walked back the way they came.

 

"Yeah! I'll definitely go again. But why'd you take some of Hagrid's rock cakes if you're not going to eat them?" She looked at the small bag he carried quizzically.

 

"No particular reason." Harry averted his eyes awkwardly, pocketing the bag. In truth, he did have a reason. A stupid one true, but that went for a lot of his ideas. The only good thing about this one was he wouldn't be putting his life on the line.

 

Lilah looked at him strangely, not believing a word, however, she relished the time spent with him. Although she treasured Dominic as a friend, there was something off that she couldn't place. It was nothing to do with friendship, she trusted his feelings were genuine. It was more the emotions didn't fit with his body, but that made no sense at all, did it?

 

One minute she was thinking of Dominic, the next she was trying not to throw up, as a wave of nausea washed over her. Breathing slowly and deeply, it vanished after a few seconds but robbed her body of all strength, to the point that she stumbled, nearly tripping over. She was grateful Harry prevented this, as he peered into her face, concern in his gaze. For some reason, she couldn't seem to focus, thoughts of everything happening other than right now, swimming through her mind.

 

"Lilah, what's wrong?!"

 

Hearing the alarm in his voice, she tried to reassure that she was fine, there was nothing to worry about but for some reason, she was unable to form the words, so tired all of a sudden. If she could just rest a bit...

 

Harry's mind came to a stop as Lilah became limp in his arms, mainly because while he thought she did look a little ill, he didn't expect this.

 

"Shit!" In his panic he didn't bother with magic, lifting her into his arms with ease. A little too easy, as he noted how light she was. The only reason he hadn't descended into a mental panic was his singular focus on taking her to the Hospital Wing, running as fast as he could, relieved that the corridors as he entered were empty.

 

"Mmm..." He heard her weak voice, dazed pear green eyes unfocused.

 

"Everything's fine, I'm getting you help." He reassured her, almost missing an added voice.

 

_'Harry?'_

 

The voice most soothing to him filled his senses. It was right now, in particular, he was thankful to be mentally connected with Alistair. Not waiting for him to continue, he explained before he could.

 

 _'Lilah just collapsed suddenly, I'm taking her to the Hospital Wing.'_   He couldn't prevent the worry from his voice even if he tried.

 

There was a long period of silence, broken by Alistair's resigned sounding voice.

 

_'I know what's wrong, bring her to my office.'_

 

Harry was about to protest but then thought for a moment. While he knew Madam Pomfrey would know what was wrong with her, there must be a reason why Alistair seemed to, even without seeing her in person.

 

_'Ok.'_

 

It didn't take long until he arrived outside Alistair's office, the door already open. He'd barely broke into a sweat, some of Thanatos' stamina helping with his overall endurance, on top of the physical training he'd had over the summer.

 

Walking in as the door automatically shut behind them, he found Alistair at his desk, who stood up immediately upon seeing Lilah, an intense expression on his face which Harry hadn't seen before.

 

"Could you place her over there?" Alistair gestured to a sofa not far from his desk, his office resembling that of the one he'd been in back at the castle.

 

Harry did as asked, taking a seat beside her silently, an unreadable expression on his face.

 

"She will be fine, I promise you." Harry nodded, eyes never leaving Lilah. It was better to wait and see what Alistair would do, as he was far out of his depth.

 

It did disturb him when Alistair conjured a dagger, but he found out why.

 

Taking the dagger, Alistair put light pressure on his neck, dragging the blade a small way, enough for blood to slowly trickle. He was about to ask what he was doing until Lilah shifted, her usual innocent gaze from where he was sat shifted, to something desperate and filled with fear, eyes changing from green to a vivid gold.

 

* * *

 

 

Everything to her was a blur of noise and movement, stuck somewhere between being conscious and falling unconscious. That is, until something painfully familiar filled her senses, fangs elongating despite her weak mental protests. It was as if the scent awakened her, like a cold spray of water on a sleeping person. Everything which she tried so hard to hide was coming to light. She didn't want this!

 

"No, please, don't," She raised one arm, weakly pushing against the person leaning over her, the tang of blood that she hated reminding her of the hunger pangs.

 

However, that hand wrapped firmly around her own, the coolness grounding her as, with eyes open, she understood who it was.

 

"Professor?" She managed to speak, upset evident in her voice and posture as she tried to turn away, closing her eyes and trying with all her might to go back to normal.

 

But he didn't let her, hand still holding hers.

 

"Yes Miss Caltir, it is me. I understand that you are scared, but you must drink. Could you do that for me?" He kept his tone kind, not letting the familiarity of the situation affect him.

 

"But why do I have to?" She was terrified, searching her mind for everything she could do to get out of this.

 

"You are ill, Lilah." He switched to her first name, catching her attention as her golden irises met his sunset ones. "It will kill you if you do not."

 

She looked away, her desolation and sorrow leaving Harry shaken. "I know. won't you let me? I don't wanna live like this."

 

A single tear escaped Lilah's eye, as she wavered between keeping herself alive or letting what she is die with her.

 

Born to a Human and Vampire, she belonged to neither. Shunned by the humans for being different despite her mostly human appearance and by the Vampires for not being pure, the only ally at her side was father, despite the disgust shown to him by others for not discarding her, his love was never questioned, despite the trouble she caused him.

 

Although he'd tried to hide it, several times when younger her father had come home worse for wear and on one occasion, she'd witnessed the violence for herself, the other Vampires not holding back with their cutting words to her either. There were the rare few who showed kindness but those who did soon stopped, treating them with indifference for fear of being shunned themselves.

 

She knew if not for her, father could live a better, more peaceful life. They would accept him if she was gone. Voldemort would not approach him either, as he did a while ago, attempting to convince her to join his cause once she was of age, to gain revenge on all those who had done her wrong. She didn't want that, not at all. She just wanted to live her life peacefully, happily. But truly, despite her cheerful disposition and optimism, she could never remember a time when she was happy, her mother had died just after childbirth.

 

And one day, she just, stopped. Stopped drinking any kind of blood, be it animal or human. She couldn't bring herself to, her very existence causing pain. Though half Vampire which didn't guarantee her immortality, she knew all Vampires would die without some form of blood. Maybe if she was gone, father would be free.

 

Her acceptance to Hogwarts seemed like a fresh start, a new beginning to finally make some friends. She knew immediately what Professor Lothaire was as soon as she saw him and knew it would be the same in his case. Though she hadn't met, she'd heard of him. He was one of the if not the most influential Vampire of their kind and she was nervous to be around him, but slowly put herself at ease, as he was very kind to her.

 

Any hope of making friends, she thought, was shattered. Harry was the first friend, or she'd like to think he is and she sensed nothing but good intentions, then there was Dominic. But on the first morning, it was her, Zain and Keith in one room, the latter had cut his finger. At the faint tang, her fangs ached and eyes changed against her will, scaring the two boys. No one had approached her since then so they couldn't have told anyone else, maybe out of fear, but that moment was what sparked Keith's name of 'freak' which served as a reminder.

 

To be faced with another such reminder in the form of Professor Lothaire's neck, a pure Vampire of all things shedding blood for someone as unworthy as her, was an insult.

 

Everything she'd concealed was no longer, a wound she'd thought had faded returned with a burning vengeance, as bitter tears stung beneath her lashes.

 

"Please don't make me, I beg you! Y-you're pure, you shouldn't shed blood for someone like me."

 

As Alistair released his grip on her hand to support her into a sitting position, another smaller hand took its place, the warmth causing her to look over at the source, her trembling increasing anew.

 

Listening to Lilah, Harry shocked himself with how deeply he was affected, eyes watering slightly. She'd given up on life completely and as someone who'd walked the line between life and death since the moment he was born, whether it was the desire to rob himself of his own or someone trying to kill him, he knew the feeling all too well. The urge to just stop fighting and actually let Voldemort kill him, particularly last year, was so strong that it scared him. Hearing another going through what he had and sometimes still did, rendered him unable to speak, a lump in his throat.

 

He reached out, gripping the frail hand tightly in his own as if to keep her from tipping over the edge. As her sorrowful gaze turned in his direction, he swallowed past his emotion, desperate to help.

 

"Lilah, I've wanted to leave this world more times than I can count. People have placed so many expectations on my shoulders for something which I had no control over, or used and discarded me when I'd served my purpose. I was close to ending it all but do you know what stopped me?" At her silent shake of the head, he continued. "My friends and the family I have left. I told myself if I couldn't live for me, I would live for them, as I don't want them to suffer while my own suffering ends. You're not alone in this." He squeezed her hand, his eyes holding nothing but sincerity.

 

She hadn't thought of it like that. Head turning from Harry holding her hand to Professor Lothaire, dried blood over the healed wound with a hand still on her back, She considered things from another angle.

 

She still felt the same, despite Harry's words, but her desire to live was a little stronger as, despite everything, her father had taken care of her and did care for her. She didn't ever want him to be sad because of something she'd done.

 

It was the hardest decision she remembered ever having to make and after a short while she closed her eyes, nodding once.

 

"I'll try."

 

"That's all I can ask for," Harry replied, relieved, but knew her heart was undecided.

 

"While our kind has told you that you do not belong, that is the furthest from the truth. We look after our own and anyone who has ignored kin has ignored the Vampire way of life. You are just as precious as the rest of us. Because I am borne of two Vampires does not diminish your value." Alistair spoke firmly, a seed of regret in his heart that he had not encountered his brethren in action as if so, he could have put a stop to it immediately.

 

At that Lilah's gaze snapped to Alistair's, disbelief and doubt etched into her expression and in response, he gave her a sad smile.

 

"While you may not believe me now, I give you my word that I will watch over you as long as you remain in these walls and do everything within my power to ensure that you or any others do not receive such treatment again." Already, he was planning on consulting Rupert, as he became aware of just how naive he was when it came to Vampires and their treatment of others not 'pure'.

 

He opened his wound once more, which had automatically healed after a few seconds. It was a safety net in a way, no Vampire could commit suicide by a blade, unless it was a special exception, The only way a self-inflicted wound remained open for more than a few seconds, is if another drank from it.

 

This time Lilah didn't turn away but stared in silence, fear still evident.

 

"Everything will be fine, you will feel better." He soothed, giving better access to his neck. Tilting her head, she seemed to search his own expression for something. He said nothing, letting her find whatever it is she sought, kneeling by her side. Having a sudden idea, he dipped his finger into some of the blood, holding it out for her to see.

 

Hesitantly, she removed her hand from Harry's, touching Alistair's hand close to her face. Looking at him then his hand, her tongue darted out, tasting a little of the blood on his finger and suddenly, it was all she could see. She didn't want to hold back, not having drunk any blood from a Vampire in years, her father being the last.

 

Her eyes focused on his wound, still bleeding a little and for support, she held onto a shoulder with one of her hands, the other tightly clenched at her side. Though inexperienced, she instinctively knew what to do and with a deep breath, fangs pierced his skin, the blood coating her tongue and it almost seemed to not be enough.

 

Alistair silently watched over her, relieved that between them, they had encouraged Lilah to drink. As she latched on tightly leaning more into him, he supported her back, the other gently pressed against her head.

 

"Good girl." He encouraged softly, sorrow clouding his gaze for a moment as while she drank and was sating her hunger, the unmistakable feeling of tears dripped onto his skin. Once the wound closed on its own, she had enough energy to clean the dried blood from the first wound, until she went slack in his arms.

 

He placed her on the sofa once more, gently wiping the blood from her mouth with a handkerchief, as he spoke for Harry's benefit. "She is fine. She will sleep for a while as her body needs the time to repair itself." He looked at Harry directly for the first time, wondering at the prickling sensation in his heart. He could see how upsetting this was for him and he held the heartfelt wish that the only tears he wanted Harry to shed were of happiness and if sad, he would put his all into changing that.

 

Harry scrubbed at his eyes fiercely, uncomfortable with showing tears, thanks to The Dursley's insistence that real men didn't cry and if he did, it was a skillet to the back of the head but despite his vicious rubbing, they continued to fall. His cries were silent, still unused to making a sound and more than mortified that he was crying in front of Alistair who without a doubt, he was attracted to in every way. He didn't want to disturb Lilah's rest so he stood up, walking around the room with one hand running through his hair in distraction.

 

Alistair stood up as well, watching his feverish pacing and quick breaths until he couldn't any longer, going to him in the blink of an eye and grasping his shoulders with both hands, as unfocused and teary green eyes looked in his direction. He removed one hand, fingers brushing stray tears.

 

"Harry, We haven't known one another for very long, but I want you to know that you don't have to hide how you feel with me." He gestured to the bracelet on both of their wrists. "You have been given so little reason to trust and while I trust you with everything I am, I know it is unreasonable to request the same but if you should feel that you can place it in me, I will remain at your side." Hair not in his usual ponytail it framed his shoulders, braid hanging loosely, as he tilted his head.

 

Silently he waited for a response, resisting the overwhelming urge to hold him, despite how strongly he wanted to. While he never liked to see anyone cry including his past lovers, he hadn't battled with the urge to remove everyone and everything which was the cause of their pain either, not like with Harry.

 

Harry swallowed once. This was the big question. He really did trust only a handful of people, some taking years before gaining it. Yet Alistair, who he'd only known for a few weeks, he would trust with his life, up there with Remus. The only reason he didn't doubt he trusted too quickly was with the help of Thanatos, his good sense of judgment carrying over to human form.

 

"I trust you," Harry spoke as firmly as he could, eyes a little more focused than before. Even with Remus, he was reluctant to let his guard down when emotional precisely of how close the connection they shared was. With Alistair, it was different. Harry had the feeling that they were closer in a different way, past friendship but not quite into anything more and because of this, muscles that were tense relaxed some, as he rested his forehead on Alistair's shoulder.

 

"Thanks." Was all Harry managed until sadness over his own and Lilah's trauma bubbled to the surface. For a moment he wanted to suppress it with some force but in the end, he sobbed softly.

 

Casting some privacy charms just to be sure, He let Harry cry, finally giving into the urge and carding a hand through his hair, the other holding him close and rubbing gently, much like he used to comfort his brother so long ago, grieving over the death of their parents.

 

Harry, in turn, wrapped his own arms around Alistair tightly, completely forgetting his constant state of embarrassment usually associated with being close to the man, appreciating that there was someone in his life where he didn't have to hide a thing with.

 

While most would think it foolish after all the times he'd been hurt, this was the one thing Harry was willing to risk it for as slowly but surely, Alistair was becoming an irreplaceable part of his life.

 

His thoughts echoed by Alistair, the two shared a moment, hearts trembling from the similarity of one young girl's situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Anyone hopping aboard the feels train? I know I did when writing this, I didn't intend for it to be so intense but nothing ever goes to plan O.O


	66. The Shadow That Hides in Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All in all, Harry could think of better days that he'd had. Surprising, considering how many of them had his life on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Lilah reveals more about herself that Harry and Alistair weren't expecting, affecting more than the young girl who'd shared it.

After a while, still encircled within Alistair's arms, Harry came to his senses. While half of him wanted to just stay where he was, the other half wanted to flee out of embarrassment. He was still having this internal debate until Alistair softly spoke by his ear.

 

"If there are times where you do struggle with your thoughts, please don't keep them to yourself. It does not necessarily have to be with me you share them, it can be with your head of house or Mr. Lupin."

 

Harry fleetingly wondered how Moony would react to Alistair. While he knew Remus would be as kind as always, he'd heard from the man the wolf side wasn't quite as welcoming. But then again he may surprise him, as Alistair was no ordinary Vampire after all, even if he certainly wasn't a part of the pack.

 

In response, Harry pulled away slightly, looking with as serious a gaze as he could muster with red-rimmed eyes and nodded. "I will, I promise."

 

The breath caught in Harry's throat at Alistair's tender smile, the softest one he'd seen from him yet.

 

"Good." And with that, the taller man drew close, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

 

Thoughts which had been running a million miles a minute suddenly seized to a halt, his entire body flushing with heat as Alistair finally released him, heart attempting to beat through his ribcage. At this rate he'd be more at risk of death from Alistair than anyone else, he wasn't sure his heart could take much more.

 

"Would you-" He stopped and started again as his words came out squeaky, at which Alistair chuckled warmly, a mischevious grin aimed in his direction.

 

"Would you be able to take a look at my invisibility cloak? I don't know when, but Dumbledore placed a lot of spells on it. It's in my trunk still but if I'd put it on most of the spells were to do with weakening my defenses and removing all suspicion of Dumbledore. I could only detect a few spells but there might be more you can find." He didn't want to take the risk. With time and effort, he could probably untangle the web of spells but he'd rather play it safe with someone who has infinite practice.

 

For a split second, Alistair had to battle the urge to tear the old man's throat out there and then and drain him dry, though he knew the blood wouldn't do him any favours. Though Harry was now independent, Dumbledore was attempting to change that and as long as he lived, he wouldn't allow it.

 

"You have my class Monday and a free period immediately after, is that right?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "During then I will remove every trace of the old fool, you have my word."

 

Green eyes glinting, Harry snorted in amusement. "It really does feel therapeutic to know there's another who shares my hatred for him."

 

Facial colour now back to normal, Harry cast a glance to Lilah, in a deep sleep. "Want me to go and inform Professor McGonagall? I've been meaning to pay her a visit. The highlight of last year was her Ginger Newts." He remembered her offer of biscuits last year and since then, he'd kept a stock of his own at the manor, growing fond of the taste.

 

"The Ginger Newts are certainly a reason to drop by, I quite agree." Since then, he had also kept a stock of those curious biscuits. he always found himself quizzically looking at the animal shape, wondering how something so small could hold such a unique flavour.  

 

After a moment of shared appreciation for Ginger Newts, he guided Harry to the door. "Thank you. I will watch over her here and inform her father. You are welcome to visit whenever you wish, though she will not wake up for a short while."

 

"I know she's safe here." The urge to protect Lilah was strong, stronger than to protect his friends even. She was like the little sister he never had and while he appreciated his friends, he hadn't shared an experience with them quite like today and because of that, the feeling of closeness deepened. Though he had to admit, even if only to himself,  it gave him a better excuse to drop by and visit Alistair too.

 

"Of course." Smiling kindly, Alistair returned to his desk. "Take care, Harry."

 

After returning the sentiment Harry left, in search of Professor McGonagall.

 

 

* * *

 

Alone with his thoughts, Harry grew suspicious. It was customary at the start of every year that Dumbledore would summon him to his office for some reason or other but strangely enough, the memories of what transpired during those sessions were blurry and though he tried, he couldn't seem to recall them. Furrowing his brow he locked them within his mind, deciding to work out that mystery later.

 

_'What have you done, Dumbledore?'_

 

As it was, he found it strange that it was so far into the first week and he hadn't been summoned. As if he'd go there willingly.

 

Sneering in disdain he arrived at Professor McGonagall's office, casting a small glamour as an afterthought. He was surprised to see the door ajar and all dark thoughts of Hogwarts' current Headmaster flew from his mind, once he saw what the Deputy Headmistress was doing.

 

He heard a low humming and after a few seconds, realized it was the tune of Loch Lomond and he had to fight hard to keep the silly grin from his face as she fixed herself some tea. Not wanting to feel the wrath of McGonagall for not announcing his presence, he knocked once on the door.

 

The Professor looked in his direction, stopping her humming immediately as she gestured for him to come in and take a seat. Once he did, she gave him her sternest glare.

 

"Not a word." Saying this, she pushed her usual tin of Ginger Newts in his direction, as an offering of silence.

 

"My lips are sealed." He made a zipping motion with his hand. While managing to keep the grin off his face, taking one. He couldn't prevent the mischevious twinkle in his eyes, reminding the one on the receiving end, of James Potter.

 

"Do you take sugar?" She asked, summoning another cup silently.

 

"No thanks." He shook his head, looking curiously at the cabinet filled with alcohol and thinking that he didn't blame her a bit. Turning back he drank some tea, each mutually sharing in the joy of the beverage.

 

"What can I do for you, Potter?" She set aside the few papers Albus had asked her to oversee, giving him her undivided attention.

 

A flicker of sorrow cross Harry's expression as he thought of Lilah. "Lilah Caltir collapsed today, she's with Professor Lothaire at the moment and I said I'd inform you as I meant to pay a visit anyway." The sigh he wanted to release was instead replaced with more tea drinking.

 

"I see, thank you for informing me. I will consult him for further details." While outwardly she was composed, inwardly concern was prevalent as she treasured her lions, more so since Albus foolishly placed Mr. Weasley in a position of authority. She would have Weasley removed as a Prefect or another member of each house granted the same authority or her name wasn't Minerva McGonagall.

 

And then, the Professor studied him intently. So intently that he had the sudden urge to fidget and usually with that stare, it meant trouble.

 

She looked at him over her glasses and finally asked, "When did you discover your animagus?"

 

Harry blinked, uncomprehending until a few seconds later, it sunk in. "How did you know I had?"

 

"Anyone with an accessible animagus form will know who else has found theirs, it helped to strengthen the bond between your father, Remus and Mr. Black."

 

 _'Makes sense.'_   He hadn't thought about that. Suddenly he was worried in case Dumbledore knew, but he believed that along with masking his power, that would include his animagus forms as both required a considerable amount.

 

"Over the summer, I tapped into my potential so to speak." After a moment, he hesitated but believed he could trust the Professor. "I don't want to register my forms."

 

"May I ask-" Then, the Professor stopped and Harry could almost see her rewinding their conversation as she couldn't hide her shock.

 

"You have more than one form?"

 

Harry gave her a brief overview of the summer and the work he'd put in to understand them.

 

McGonagall shook her head in silence. "Potters never accomplish anything by halves. My original question is answered, I see why you wouldn't want to register your forms, so your secret is safe with me."

 

"Thanks." Harry exhaled in relief. While he knew the reason she thought was he had enough attention, he didn't need more with unique animagi, but that wasn't the only reason. He wanted an Advantage against Dumbledore and Voldemort, no matter how big or small. Though he'd count an Amphithere and the animal representation of Avada Kedavra as a big advantage.

 

A shadow passed across McGonagall's face, seeming to forget that Harry was there for a split second, as an all too familiar Patronus glided through the stone wall.

 

"Minerva my dear, would you be so kind as to inform Harry that I wish to see him in my office?" Short and to the point, not usually Dumbledore's style so Harry found himself surprised and resigned. Of course, just the thought of the bastard had to turn luck against him. This day in his book could be going a lot better than it currently was.

 

"Albus can wait." Her lips pursed in disapproval she turned back to Harry, tea left forgotten as Harry finished his own quickly.

 

"Before you go, Potter, how is Remus?"

 

Harry gave her a genuine smile. "He's doing fine, despite how much of a close call it was. I trust you so when you have time, I can give you the password to the floo."

 

She considered it but in the end, a shake of the head. "It is better to not take the risk. There must be a reason why Albus' letters never found their destination and you received mine immediately. My skills in Occlumency are good, but whether they would stand against an attack from Albus, I do not now."

 

"You think he'd do that?" Harry asked, curious about her thoughts.

 

"I don't know. I don't want to believe it, having known Albus for as long as I have but within the last decade, his desired outcome for the future of our world is becoming less and less clear."

 

With a troubled smile, she gestured for him to go. "I will pass communications to you for Remus, it will be safer that way."

 

"Of course. Thanks for your time Professor." Inclining his head, Harry reinforced his occlumency shields, employing all the calm and patience he was able to build, in preparation.

 

As soon as Harry left, Minerva opened a door, not clearly visible unless you knew where to look. There, all that she had learned today was sealed away. Not even Albus knew that she owned a Pensieve, borrowing his for irrelevant thoughts so that he wouldn't be insistent upon him purchasing one. This was knowledge best left to those who could safely protect it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot happened in this chapter, my apologies. I've been distracted recently for reasons beyond my control O.O but I assure you unless my laptop explodes and dies or AO3 is down, I won't miss a week xD


	67. Master of Puppets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry didn't see the need to run to Dumbledore's office, instead choosing to visit someone with a gift in mind and during that time, prepared himself for his first meeting with Dumbledore since the night it all began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: After saying farewell to Alistair, Harry had an interesting conversation with McGonagall and remained assured that she would keep his secret, especially after her reaction to Dumbledore's Patronus.

Harry had the habit of interpreting things how he liked and not how others would. For example, as Dumbledore knew where he was, the message intended for him to go to the office straight after finishing his conversation with Professor McGonagall. However...

 

The mischievous twinkle present throughout his visit with the head of Gryffindor house brightened, if that was possible, as a smirk naturally slid onto his face. True, Dumbledore wanted to see him, but he'd failed to mention when. If he'd said immediately then that was fair enough. But, he didn't.

 

Giving a low chuckle and startling one or two students he passed by in the corridors, he didn't hesitate on taking a detour, lightly tickling the pear as he stepped into the Hogwarts kitchens.

 

He hadn't the time for his eyes to adjust to the surroundings, before something small and slightly hard collided with his legs. If he hadn't been expecting it he might have dropped to the ground in shock but as it was, he came here with that specific house elf in mind. As some of the elves looked over at the slight disturbance, they quickly returned to their tasks, as diligent and hardworking as ever.

 

He met the rounded and slightly teary eyes of Dobby, his own softening at the impressive feat of several woolly hats balanced between his ears and feet padded by several socks. He hadn't the heart to tell the elf that he was wearing too many clothes and Harry didn't exactly help his situation.

 

The one thing Dumbledore had done which Harry didn't mind, was employing Dobby into Hogwarts service. Though he knew the man always had a reason for his actions and in this case, it was either because of Dobby's former connection to Lucius Malfoy or current connection with him, the outcome was that Dobby had a job, he was paid for his service and more importantly, happy.

 

Since he'd found out early in his third year, he discovered the kitchens through his own exploration and found Dobby. Though he'd nearly died through his actions, the thought behind them was just to keep him safe, if misguided. So every time he came to visit, he brought one of his socks, as if to commemorate the day Dobby became free. This time was no exception, the only difference being that these were genuinely his own socks and not Dudley's with more holes than fabric.

 

"It's good to see you, my friend. Sorry I didn't visit much last year." Giving a self-mocking smile, he gently pried the small arms from around his legs, so he could crouch to Dobby's level.

 

"Dobby is understanding." His ears flapped with the force of his nods, hats still balancing, though magic could have something to do with it. He said nothing more, solemn eyes returning to their usual brightened eagerness as held another sock in his grasp.

 

"You should start a new collection," Harry gestured to Dobby's feet, each sock belonging to Dudley and not offering much in the way of comfort. "That sock really does belong to me and it wasn't owned by anyone else. Once I give you enough socks this time, I can help you choose which mismatching pair you want to wear for which day."

 

"Harry Potter sir is so kind!" It was easier than Harry thought for Dobby to discard his current collection and wear his new sock. This one was patterned with animated brooms, he was unable to resist purchasing several pairs along with other designs from Madam Malkin's. While the target audience was younger than him, he'd never had the chance to indulge, so he decided to make the most of it. Not to mention wizarding socks were far more appealing and interesting than their muggle counterpart, there was something both worlds had to offer.

 

"Is there anything Mr Harry Potter be wanting?" Dobby asked, undecided on whether to stare at his new sock or look at Harry, resulting in an amusing expression.

 

He hesitated, but only for a moment. Of age be damned, if there was ever a time he'd need liquid courage to lie to the master of lies, now would be the perfect opportunity.

 

"If there's any Firewhisky knocking about, I wouldn't mind some of that."

 

And Dobby, eager to please as he was, brought more than one bottle over. Ah, if only Remus was here, then they could have some fun. He didn't say anything about how much, simply patting Dobby on the shoulder.

 

"Thanks, Dobby, just stopped by to say hello, I'll be on my way now." Gratitude laced through his tone, as he never wanted Dobby to feel unappreciated by him.

 

He uncorked one bottle, not bothering with a glass and taking a fairly large gulp, his throat not burning as much as it had the first time he'd tried it. Truth be told he preferred softer drinks, but Firewhisky was the key to a drunk Moony, as they had quickly discovered.

 

As amusing as it would be to turn up to the Headmaster's office completely pissed out of his mind, it wouldn't help at all, particularly if Dumbledore decided he wanted to thoroughly violate it. Grimacing at the thought of the pain he'd experienced at the hands of Snape, his walls were as high as he was going to get them.

 

_'Well, here goes.'_

 

He didn't bother rushing, taking his time and greeting everyone cheerfully, even if internally he was more nervous than he let on. In a way, this meeting would be a test to see how much he could handle and if he'd changed enough to remain partially free. While Dumbledore and Voldemort lived, in principle, he wasn't free. Though surprisingly enough Voldemort hadn't been active at all, not even when the entirety of his Horcrux within Harry was still there. He couldn't decide which was worse, as not hearing from him meant plotting.

 

Putting thoughts of Voldemort aside, he found, as usual, he didn't need a password, able to pass by and follow the staircase up to his office.

 

Before he could enter, a familiar face walked past. Dominic and Harry greeted one another with nods and he barely reacted as something was pushed into the palm of his hand. He quickly glanced at it, nodding to himself.

 

'Meet me in the ROR after.'

 

He let the parchment burn to a crisp through wandless magic, preparing himself to give the best performance of a lifetime.

 

"Come in, my boy." Of course, it could be Harry's imagination, but he'd like to think he really did hear just a touch of impatience.

 

The office looked as it always did, no signs of his previous fit of destroying everything. The one thing about last year he didn't regret. In fact, he was saddened he hadn't managed to leave behind permanent damage. He'd have to find a way to prevent Dumbledore's beard from growing as sadly, it had returned to normal. He still had the item of clothing made from it, displayed in the manor. He was sure some crazed fan would be interested in a genuine Dumble-Beard-Jumper.

 

"Good evening Sir." He bowed his head, remaining as polite and neutral as possible, matching those twinkling eyes with his own calm ones, a genuine smile curving his lips as Fawkes landed on his knee once seated. He indulged the Phoenix and ran his fingers through the feathers, a few losing their place as he looked to be close to burning day.

 

The piercings he now owned came in handy, as he could immediately see that the lemon drops held a mild calming draught and the tea laced with Veritiserum. The calming draught could work in his favour, but too calm could mean too careless, and Fawkes was a better solution than any calming draught.

 

As for the Veritiserum, it would work better in his favour if he did take a lemon drop, it would convince Dumbledore that Harry trusted him still or that the spells in his cloak worked, though he had no way of knowing if Dumbledore could tell.

 

Not wanting a repeat of fifth year and Umbridge, Harry and Remus had spent some time giving each other Veritiserum and asking one another for the truth, to the point that much like with Professor Snape, both grew immune to the effects though Remus was already partially immune thanks to his wolfish traits. As Harry's Occlumency skills improved, so did his ability to resist anything which remotely influenced the mind. Though it could be a different story with one of Professor Snape's, as the Veritiserum they used was already stocked in the manor. Then it would be a battle of wills, but worth the risk.

 

Before Dumbledore could say anything along the lines of gently encouraging him to drink tea or have a lemon drop, Harry spoke up, not averting his eyes and practically daring him to scan his mind though outwardly, all that could be read from his expression was one of great shame and remorse, even if on the inside he wished he could fashion a noose out of said old man's newly grown beard.

 

"Headmaster, I owe you an apology and I believe not any amount of atonement can make up for what I've done."

 

Both bushy eyebrows raised in response, a faint flicker of surprise until his usual benevolent aura returned.

 

"Would you care to explain what you mean, Harry?" He asked, busying himself with tea preparation. Harry didn't see him slip anything into it, so at a guess, the Veritiserum was laced through the teabag.

 

Harry allowed himself to take a shaky breath in, averting his eyes for a few seconds to make it seem as if he were emotional. Oh, he was certainly emotional but closer than ever to bursting into laughter rather than the sorrow he wanted to show.

 

He looked up, taking a small sip of tea and tried not to grimace at how much sugar there was.

 

"The incident at Privet Drive. I-" He closed his eyes, managing to conjure a single tear as it trickled down his cheek. "-I was too weak. I couldn't stop him, Sir!" His eyes became beseeching as if to seek Dumbledore's guidance and wisdom, something which long ago, he once believed in.

 

Suddenly, Dumbledore stopped all action and pinned him with the most intense gaze. "Stop who, Harry?" His tone of voice was urgent, expectant, even.

 

"Voldemort. Like at the ministry, I couldn't stop it. He came back. He possessed me, twisted my thoughts and all the hatred I harbour for him, he used to fuel the murder of my relatives. I wasn't in control. Because I was too weak I couldn't stop what he did. I mean yeah, I was never close to my relatives exactly but they were my only living family, how could I not care for them?"

 

 _'Think of everyone else.'_   That mantra circled within as disgust churned his stomach. Love for his friends, Remus, Sirius and anyone he considered to be his family, Dumbledore was on the receiving end of, believing that it existed for his departed relatives.

 

Dumbledore remained silent, almost lost in thought. But not quite enough for him to fail to notice Harry draining the last of his tea. Sensing this, Harry adjusted his expression, allowing his features to slacken and eyes to unfocus, willing his heartbeat to slow down.

 

Dumbledore leaned forward, nodding to himself in satisfaction, half-moon glasses perched upon his nose.

 

"Are you telling the truth, Harry?" A significant weight seemed to hang from these words, as he only allowed a few seconds of delay. Dumbledore was already aware of the strength of his willpower from the Imperius Curse during his fourth year, so it was safe to allow a little resistance. It would only be more suspicious if he gave an immediate answer.

 

"Yes." Nothing coloured his tone, remaining flat and void of all feeling, which was difficult for him to do after feigning deep emotion.

 

Remaining as though he was affected by Veritiserum proved more challenging, as he sensed movement internally. There were hardly any defences to speak of except the most basic. This option was better than if he hadn't drunk the tea, as he'd have to alter his mindscape back to when he barely knew anything. At least this way, all he had to do was allow his mind to remain blank, with the occasional stray thought of their previous conversation. He let them float, gently pushing thoughts from when he was possessed by Voldemort shortly followed by what he was feeling before his Hungarian Horntail magic came out to play. Really if he didn't know it himself, he'd almost say he was possessed in that moment. It was the culmination of everything which had happened to him, at his breaking point.

 

While it was probably a few seconds, to Harry it seemed like hours. He had no doubt Professor Snape could make a subtler entry, anything less and he would have died long ago. It was probably partially out of enjoyment at getting back at him for what his father did and Dumbledore's orders that his head was tenderised like a piece of meat on a butcher's table.

 

And then, it was over. All he wanted to talk to Harry about after that was irrelevant topics, small talk here and there. Harry had brought up and discussed what happened before Dumbledore could and that was all he apparently wanted. He was half in disbelief that he managed to pull off such bullshittery and felt a moment of appreciation for Snape, as this vaguely resembled what he had to face, though more omitting some information and twisting the truth in the most Slytherin way physically possible.

 

Of course Voldemort hadn't possessed him and of course, he didn't care for his relatives. In fact, he hated them and Umbridge more than he did Voldemort. It was a closer threat to home for him. While the madman had killed his parents and set him up for a life of being controlled by others and constant doom, in a way he was manipulated by others as well, though admittedly only after he'd grown up using others through their terrible treatment of him. Harry was simply the second of two choices. What happens when a child is broken by the environment he grows in and the people he surrounds himself with?

 

While Voldemort left him an Orphan, it was The Dursleys who turned him into a broken but slowly recovering mess. And Umbridge was a Wizarding reminder of his relatives, as he mentally sneered at her obvious enjoyment of his suffering. Vernon took particular pleasure in it, his son quickly following the same path while Petunia, face twisted in constant disgust, watched on.

 

At last, Harry was free to go and he couldn't hold back the small sigh of relief as he did so, heading for the ROR. He was positive that the calm while in there was mainly thanks to Fawkes who throughout the entire visit, remained on his knees.

 

Feeling just a little elated from his apparent success with Dumbledore which he expressed with a short fist pump, he sent along through his mental link with Alistair the equivalent of a kiss, as he was positive that's what he received from him sometimes.

 

Holding back his blush of wondering what it would be like if Alistair kissed him somewhere other than his forehead to save himself from Tonks' teasing, Harry once more appreciated his increased stamina as he was sure he'd traversed the halls of Hogwarts more across this week than he had during an entire year.

 

* * *

 

 

Elsewhere in Hogwarts, Alistair broke into the brightest grin, nearly outshining the sun with its intensity. He was uncaring of the effect it had on the students he passed by, some sighing in admiration and others with hearts in their eyes. Ah, a kiss returned to him! Chuckling at how adorable he found Harry he continued on, a strange warmth emanating from inside and radiating out. Though his body remained cold, he couldn't deny the warmth in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Harry decided on a career as an actor, how do you think he'd do? So yeah, at last, I've finally got round to doing something with Tonks for next chapter so the future will involve the ministry, even if Harry can't take action against Dumbledore right now, he can certainly work on taking him down over time!
> 
> ~How do you all feel about Quidditch? If it's something a lot of you would like to see I could try to write a match and fit it in somewhere though I can't say I'm very confident about my Quidditch writing abilities. But if anything it would be a challenge and something to consider :)


	68. She Doesn't Give a Flying Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry not only discusses things he's been meaning to with Tonks, he also finds out an alternate answer to Arthur's ultimate question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry managed to withstand Dumbledore, with words and in his mind. Not to mention one happy Alistair.

As Harry approached The Room of Requirement, he was reminded that those still attending Hogwarts weren't the only ones who knew. The thought hadn't occurred that Tonks would until she mentioned it in the brief note. It made their job easier actually because, on second thought, Harry wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to have the Library bugged with listening devices.

 

  
Shuddering at the thought of a certain pair of wizened ears listening to his conversations, he opened the set of double doors, reminiscent of the Ministry in their design. He'd made his peace with the Ministry, even if the thought of it filled him with displeasure as for every decent Auror, there were twice as many corrupt or incompetent.

 

  
Alastor Moody, as far as Harry knew, didn't fit into the corrupt category. He doubted any amount of promised wealth would sway him from seeing Lucius Malfoy or other Death Eaters imprisoned within Azkaban. Despite his dislike, he admired the dogged determination shown whenever it came to dealing with the other side. Unlike Dumbledore, he didn't hold back or insist on stunning and then interrogation, he'd rather incapacitate first as Stupefy could be cancelled if the Witch or Wizard's wandless and wordless magic was strong enough or if not, an able-bodied comrade could cancel the spell.

 

  
Harry agreed with this approach, though a small part of him would happily just AK the lot of them. He'd be doing this for eternity however as there's always a Voldemort supporter who chooses to lie low.

 

  
Overall he'd had little contact with Tonks but whatever tense situation Sirius failed to break, it was often by her tripping over the Troll Leg umbrella stand, in turn setting off the portrait of Walburga Black. Everyone was usually so occupied with trying to shut her up the tension seemed to dissipate.

 

  
He was unsure of her thoughts as a whole, particularly surrounding how to deal with Death Eaters. He hoped he would be able to meet more than just this one occasion if time allowed for it, as he appreciated as many people as possible on his side. Not necessarily against Dumbledore, but it was almost comforting to know that Alistair shared his hatred.

 

As the name popped into his mind, happiness accompanied it, some not his own. Just the thought of it never failed to bring a smile but today, he could detect Alistair's emotions more keenly. He'd like to think it was because of his earlier actions and just for the moment, he let himself indulge in that thought.

 

"Wotcher Harry!"

 

In an extraordinary feat of spacing out, as he found himself doing whenever those glowing sunset eyes crossed his mind, he'd opened the door and simply stood there, coming back into focus as a hand clapped his shoulder.

 

She wore no disguise today, her normal self in Auror robes. Casually slinging an arm over his shoulder, she pushed him lightly into an armchair, taking the opposite one, giving an exaggerated huff of relief.

 

"Boys are filthy pigs, the lot of them. You don't know how happy I am to have a break from it. I'd rather face Death Eaters than have to witness some of the things I've seen in the dorms." She shuddered.

 

Harry couldn't even argue. He didn't know about the girls but Ron, in particular, he did, far too much. Mrs Weasley was a great mum, it was just Ron. There was no pacing at all. He ate as though each meal was the last and the number of times he'd scratched certain places and touched somewhere that others would and not considered the hygiene side of things was baffling. If the boys were anything like Ron, he really did feel sorry for her.

 

"Is Dumbledore even paying you for this?" He asked, curious more than anything.

 

"Not a Sickle." Her eyes flickered with unease. "I'm not sure he even has the money to run The Order. When I asked about payment he simply said-" Her facial features slowly morphed into Dumbledore, alarming since the rest of her body remained the same, "You are helping future generations of witches and wizards with your actions, my dear, that is a reward itself."

 

It was a pretty good impression of Dumbledore, Harry had to admit as he let out a snort. "Is he serious? I'd like to see his reaction if his pay for running Hogwarts was cut short."

 

A serious look in his eyes mingled with some disgust, he reached a hand into the pouch by his side. The fact that Dumbledore expected Order members to do his dirty work for free out of loyalty when they were voluntarily choosing to spend their time at meetings and with how little progress they seemed to be making had him wondering why so many people admired the man. Now that he was fully aware and looking from the outside in, the harmless mask he wore seemed so obviously fake, but only a small handful of students and staff alike sensed this.

 

At Harry's thought, a table appeared. The room rang with the sound of a generous amount of galleons hitting wood. "This is your payment from me. You have two options. Yes or yes. Think of it as a gift for being Sirius' favourite cousin."

 

Grinning, he watched as Tonks rolled her eyes, slightly misty and at that, his expression tinged with a bit of sadness and some regret. It was true, you didn't realise what you had until it was gone.

 

In an effort to break the sad silence, Harry slapped a palm to his forehead. "Oh, I forgot! You're not old enough to go to Diagon Alley. Just get an older and ridiculously handsome student to get sweets for you." Wiggling his eyebrows, he slicked back his hair and narrowly missed a well-aimed rubber duck. Catching it, he looked at Tonks quizzically.

 

"My answer to Arthur's question." She gave a casual shrug, Butterbeer appearing on the table as she popped the cork, taking a sip. "I remember him asking me, what's the function of a rubber duck? So whenever I get the chance to chuck something out of frustration, It's one of these."

 

His eyes widened in recognition. Arthur asked him the same thing before the start of his second year, he never had the chance to answer but if so, it would be a lot simpler than what Tonks had come up with. He was tempted to start doing this himself.

 

"We're getting off track." Tonks clapped her hands as if to refocus her attention. "You said before there's something about Remus?"

 

"Not just Remus, me as well. I would ask if you remember what happened earlier on in the year, but it would be hard to forget."

 

Tonks grimaced. "Yeah. I admit up until that point, I've been sheltered but since then I haven't let my clumsiness hold me back and I'm taking a more active role, Kingsley is a great help. Not crazed like Mad-Eye but not lax like The Headmaster. He's found a happy middle ground I think I can run with."

 

Harry hadn't had much contact with Kingsley, in fact, the only contact he'd had, if indirect, was the strange substance a drunken him and his equally drunk wolfish friend had created. He hoped he was protected against Dumbledore's influence now. Worryingly he wasn't sure if there was more to it than that. Dumbledore could transform into those pair of socks he claims to see in the mirror of Erised. The day Dumbledore actually saw socks in the mirror, Harry would declare his undying love for Voldemort.

 

"Glad to hear it." Harry's smile turned strained. "During that time, I'd broken a magical block placed on me without my consent. When I went to the Goblins, I'd found out altogether, I had seven of them."

 

Tonks dropped her bottle in shock but she barely reacted at the resounding smash of glass. "WHAT?!"

 

She closed her eyes for a moment. Once open again, there were no traces of panic or surprise and Harry admired her control.

 

"One magical block is risky and only recommended as a last resort if a child's magic is too wild to control and even then there is a small risk of death. May I see your memories?" Her shift from carefree friend to Auror was almost instantaneous. He trusted her but couldn't help feeling hesitant from the last time someone rummaged through his mind.

 

"We can use a Pensieve if you prefer, I know I'm not too fond of someone in my head." Tonks understood all too well. Her Occlumency skills were good, but not quite enough to hold against someone like Dumbledore. She was certain he'd scanned her mind before but she wasn't skilled enough to detect it.

 

"Neither am I. But go ahead, I trust you."

 

It was harder than Harry thought to lower his guard, so tightly kept up and not loosening much even when he was alone.

 

_"Legilimens."_

 

Her touch was so different to Snape's. He could detect it easily, but there was nothing forceful about it. Just inquisitive, curious. In response to this, he directed her to the correct memories, though not thinking it necessary to show her when Alistair removed one of his blocks. Simply the night he'd broken free and his conversation with Dragonclaw.

 

He was unsure how much time had passed but once she'd left his mind, her skin tone was a little pallid.

 

"Thanks, Harry. I can't believe Dumbledore would do this. I believe you and I know that he's not what he shows to other people but I ever imagined something like this." She shook her head softly. "I'll see Bones about this, I know she'll be interested though I'm not sure there's much we can do at this point. Dumbledore is still an influential member of the Ministry and the people's opinion of you shifts constantly."

 

He'd already thought as much. "That's ok, as long as someone knows I'm happy. Dumbledore will get what's coming to him."

 

His tone was grim as eyes burned fiercely, nothing would change them.

 

"As for Remus, it's better if you ask him yourself, though I'm happy to answer any questions you have after. If you want to use the floo to where he is Grimmauld Place is best. I don't trust that Dumbledore hasn't altered Hogwarts wards any and as for The Ministry and what happened the last time I was there, I don't really trust their security either. No offence."

 

"None taken, I know The Ministry has had its moments. Several of them." She added, noticing Harry's raised eyebrow. The smashed bottle of Butterbeer disappeared as she stood up. "I'll be on my way then."

 

Harry had a sudden thought. He was more protective of Remus than he'd realised. Amusing really but after that scare before, he didn't want to take the chance.

 

"The password is The Lion's Den. Once you're done speaking with Remus, get him to obliviate you. It's not that I don't trust you, just to be safe."

 

Tonks nodded, the light of approval in her eyes. "I understand. Take care, Harry."

 

"You too." After watching her leave, he couldn't help but think if Evergreen Manor needed more security. He wasn't sure if any floo had the protections he'd placed. It wasn't enough for the password. Once the password was given, there was a question only that specific person would know. Polyjuice wouldn't work even if the question was correct either. As soon as the Polyjuiced person arrived through the flames, any magical effects whether by spell or potion would dissipate and they would be denied entry, similar to the Goblin's waterfall security. It wasn't written anywhere and he only knew this from Alistair. If it was, there's a chance that someone could work their way around it.

 

He was always looking for different options to consider. There was never such as thing as too much protection in his opinion. After spending so much of his life with little of it in every aspect, it was nice to have more than enough.

 

Deciding that while he was in the room he would make the most of it, Harry's thoughts shifted to Lunaland and finding a large patch of grass he worked off his pent-up ball of energy, every spell aimed towards a figurative Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly missed the upload schedule as the wifi decided it didn't want to work for me, but everyone else O.O I blame magic


	69. Whirling Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville often assists Professor Sprout on the weekends. The only difference this time being his thoughts were occupied by something other than the plants he tends to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Tonks and Harry have that long-awaited discussion, as Harry vents his frustrations in the ROR afterwards.

Letting the rhythmic feeling of tending to plants overtake him, Neville's mind wandered. Usually, the enjoyment of helping Professor Sprout was so great, that he had to be reminded of the time, too absorbed in his task to notice.

 

Right now, it was different. So much had happened he'd had trouble taking it all in. He saw this as a chance to process everything, including the curious plant Harry had gifted him with.

 

To his surprise, Professor Sprout hadn't seen anything of its kind before. He had yet to approach Professor Snape and ask and while he was much more confident and self-assured now, mainly thanks to Harry, the wariness he had in the past remained somewhat.

 

Since the start, he had the feeling of being an outsider looking in. While Harry and Hermione treated him well, Ron, overcome by jealousy, often forcefully changed the topic of conversation. It was a lot better during his 4th and 5th year as he'd always wanted to get to know Harry, as a true friend.

 

And now, this year, everything had changed. Worry clouded his mind during the summer as he thought of what state Harry must be in after all he'd gone through. It made him glad that he wasn't the chosen one, however that didn't stop strange things from happening. Even being around Harry did this, what happened with Ginny, Luna and Hermione springing to mind.

 

Harry had returned to Hogwarts, quite literally a new man. He'd even gained a few inches and while Ron and Neville remained taller, he could see the confidence this and his sharpened physical appearance had given him. Not to mention his magical power. Neville was unsure what had happened but the air around him seemed more charged, evidently so the day Ron insulted Luna.

 

He would forever etch that into his memory and think of Ron's fearful face when either confronted with Harry or Professor Snape. Both worked, particularly when Ron's snoring encouraged Neville to reach out and smother him with a pillow, though recently he'd taken a leaf out of Harry's book and either silenced Ron's bunk or his own. It didn't stop him from being irritating when awake, however.

 

 _'Ron dug his grave, he'll have to climb out of it himself.'_   Neville held back a grin at that thought. He'd regret the day he insulted Greengrass like he did. He'd seen her spell work and never wanted to be on the receiving end. He'd sit back in contentment and watch Ron under several wand points, popcorn within reach.

 

"Good evening, Mr Longbottom."

 

While his mind completely focused on something else, movements remained ingrained into his being as so used to tending to plants, his body knew what to do, even if mentally preoccupied. He finished tending to the current plant, with a nickname of 'Wizard Trap.' Much like the Venus flytrap, however, they seemed to enjoy men. Curiously enough, women didn't interest it. Usually, they weren't encountered until 7th year, but the Professor found him skilled and trustworthy enough to help tend to them in his free time now, which pleased him to no end.

 

Looking up and wiping his hands on the towel he always left nearby, Professor Lothaire stood across from him, smiling pleasantly.

 

Hang on, evening?

 

Sure enough, the Greenhouse was significantly dimmer than when he arrived this morning. He'd done it again.

 

"Evening Professor, what brings you here?" He asked, all the while replacing everything he'd used for the day. He smiled slightly, watching as the Professor looked around, head tilted in curiosity. He appreciated curiosity of any kind on this subject. He knew the others tried and to some extent Harry was interested, but the technical jargon went beyond his understanding.

 

"I find Hogwarts to be fascinating. Whenever I am not drowning in the paperwork I find myself with, I have decided to discover more about the subjects that I don't deal with. Which is why I find myself here. Professor Sprout asked me to retrieve you, as without a reminder, her words and not mine, you would remain here throughout the day and into the next morning." His eyes twinkled with amusement.

 

"She's not wrong." Neville gave an embarrassed smile. No one could understand him except the Professor he worked alongside sometimes. His Gran didn't even try, simply left him to it.

 

The brown eyes before him turned serious. "I admire your dedication to a subject that you are passionate about, what some of my students are severely lacking."

 

Ron's face flashed across Neville's mind for a second. He could understand that. "If you've got any questions fire away, I'd be happy to answer them." Neville slid a stool in the other man's direction, sitting down on his own until they faced each other. He looked at peace, comfortable even. In fact, Neville couldn't once recall him ever looking discomposed.

 

After a short pause he spoke, the same curiosity in his eyes from before, prevalent now.

 

"Have you always had a love for Herbology?"

 

Oh. What Neville meant was questions about the subject itself, not him. He didn't mind, however, just found it unexpected. He saw no reason to refuse. Within the first few minutes, his answers were a little guarded but overtime, the more questions Professor Lothaire asked and the genuine expressions crossing his face during them, the more relaxed and as a result passionate, Neville got.

 

"There was one time, working in the Greenhouse at home, where my Gran forced me to entertain this snotty kid of a family we were acquainted with. Real pushy, attempting to boss me about in my own house. It was genuinely an accident, but I was so busy working in the Greenhouse that I didn't hear him come in. If I had I would have shouted some kind of warning but I didn't notice until I heard the screams."

 

Neville paused for a breath and to try and compose himself. The event in question happened nine years ago, but he never failed to find it amusing.

 

"Basium-Amare, or Kiss-Love in English, the name is stupid really, is harmless but one of the more difficult plants to take care of. It requires a lot of attention, including talking with it. They're naturally affectionate and the more care you give them, the bigger they grow. So when I look over at him, I see nothing but smooth green vines and small pink flowers. It wrapped him in their version of an embrace, rubbing against his cheek. As soon as I coaxed it away I'd never seen him run so fast. Honestly, you'd think he was being stabbed!"

 

He snorted in laughter and moments later, remembered just who he was talking to and looked a little ashamed. "Sorry sir, I got carried away there."

 

Unknowing to him, one Vampire was interested in this particular plant.

 

"There is no need to apologise Mr Longbottom, it's alright." He reassured Neville who looked flustered, "I am glad that I know more about you, I wish to understand my students as I believe that it may help with my approach to the role I have."

 

Neville thought that the new DADA Professor was a pretty decent bloke, especially in his fair treatment, but his respect raised a few notches. He was half expecting to be brushed off or tuned out when he was speaking but the opposite was true, no one had ever wanted to know so much about him and for the first time, Herbology was not the direct cause for his happiness.

 

"I apologise, I did not mean to keep you." The Professor spoke after a while, noticing the rapidly darkening sky. Seeing this, he quickly but elegantly, for that's the only word Neville could think of, wrote something down on a spare bit of parchment, both self-inking quill and parchment pulled from what seemed to be the inner depths of his robes.

 

Looking at it, it was a note excusing him for being out so late. Though curfew was less strict over the weekend, there was still a requirement to be within the dorm rooms by late evening.

 

"Thanks." Neville nodded his head in gratitude, standing up and matching the steps of the Professor as both left the Greenhouse behind.

 

"Before you take your leave, I have one more question if I may."

 

He signalled to go ahead, marvelling at the difference between Professor Lothaire and Professor Snape. He was sure Professor Lothaire was actually taller of the two, but there was nothing as overly intimidating. His relaxed but caring attitude made him an instant hit with most of the females and some males of the student body. Others not interested in him romantically found it hard to dislike him, even more so when even in the face of Professor Snape's fiercest scowl, a smile always remained.

 

However, he had no doubt he could be a threat and Neville had the feeling more than anyone suspected. He knew the man across from him was a Vampire thanks to Harry but strangely enough, he was unfazed by this. Perhaps because of Professor Lupin in his third year. The nicest bloke Neville had the pleasure of being taught by until he was forced to leave due to his condition being revealed. He was hardly one to judge when so many had judged him for being a Squib. But now that he had his own wand, Squib was the last thing he overheard students calling him these days.

 

"Has Mr Weasley always acted in the manner that he currently conducts himself?"

 

In the dim lighting, Neville could make out the Professor's features. At a guess, he was asking in an attempt to understand Ron more but even after knowing him for years, even before Hogwarts as his Gran and Mrs Weasley knew each other, he couldn't even begin to understand what ran through his mind.

 

But from all that he'd seen, he'd try to give an answer as honest as possible. At 11 years of age, that was a time where prejudice could be corrected and the time to learn to adapt, dependent upon who he was surrounded by. Neville was unsure what had happened but with each year, his prejudice and jealousy only grew stronger. But this year, it looked as though along with a new Harry, a more extreme version of Ron appeared as well.

 

"He's always been biased towards Gryffindor since the majority of the Weasley line were Gryffindors and as a result, he sees this as the superior house and fails to see the bad points of our house and the good points of the other houses. It seems to have come to a head this year though. When he was a kid of course not, but something must have happened." Neville shrugged. "Sorry I can't give you a better answer than that, we share the same dorm but we're not exactly close."

 

Professor Lothaire looked at him, smiling gently. "Thank you, Mr Longbottom, you have been more than helpful. I shall take my leave now, enjoy the rest of your day."

 

Bowing his head in farewell, Neville could have sworn he melted into the night. In his opinion, Ron may be beyond help but if that was the Professor's intention, he admired him for trying.

 

Though they hadn't discussed an official meet up time, Neville decided to head to the Room of Requirement regardless, wondering how everyone else's day had been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want Neville to feel left out, since we know how the rest of the gang's day has been :P


	70. Name That Headmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group discuss their day, along with some of them testing out their naming creativity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Neville spent the majority of his Saturday helping Professor Sprout, losing himself in thoughts of all that had happened up until now, along with a new found respect for this year's DADA Professor.

Releasing a single, long sigh of satisfaction, Harry finally lowered the wand he'd raised. It wasn't so much tiring, more the feeling of resting your body in bed after a particularly long day. He relaxed some, the pent-up stress of Lilah's collapse and Dumbledore's summon draining slowly, along with a tiny portion of his magical reserves. He was unsure how long he'd envisioned Dumbledore over the top of significant destruction if not for the room's capabilities, but it went a long way towards improving his wellbeing, physically and mentally. In the past, he barely remembered his coping mechanisms when things became too difficult.

 

Taking a seat in the same place as the last time he was here, he waited for his friends to arrive, in the meantime drying his sweat soaked body.

 

It wasn't long until Neville joined him. "Alright, Harry? How was your day?" He sat across from him, gratefully reaching out for a bottle of butterbeer, several appearing on the table between them. When he lost track of time, he also neglected to eat and drink. The girls in their dorm always discussed the latest diet plans, he was half serious about submitting his weekend as an option.

 

"Normal, at least compared to usual standards." A faint grimace crossed his face. "Bumblebore wanted to see me."

 

Neville choked on a sip of his drink, looking at Harry incredulously.

 

He practically rubbed his hands in glee, explaining as best he could. "It's an interesting pass time of mine, Remus has started joining in as well. The game is simple. All you have to do is call Zumblegore by anything other than his actual name. Between us, or the girls if they want to join, there are bonus points if you can drop a name where he can overhear it or it's a name combination used for the first time. Want to give it a shot?"

 

Harry hoped Neville would be on board. Any way to have fun at Wumblewhore's expense was worth it in his opinion, smile widening at Neville's hesitant nod.

 

"Gumbleshore."

 

Harry nodded in approval. "Exactly, you've got it. Humbleyore."

 

"Trumblecore."

 

"Yumblejore."

 

"Jumblelore."

 

Back and forth the two went, their amusement rising with every name until Neville spoke, unexpectedly for Harry and Neville himself if his widened eyes and covered mouth indicated anything.

 

"Wanker."

 

That was it for Harry. He laughed himself hoarse. It was the last thing he expected his friend to come out with and after Neville got over his own shock, soon joined him in laughter.

 

Wiping tears from their eyes, they made a promise to start another game within Dumbledore's earshot and to involve whoever they could.

 

Harry couldn't disagree with Neville even if the unofficial rules of the game were broken. In fact, that would be one of the words where super bonus points would be awarded if the person could slip this into a conversation, speaking about Lumblefore and not getting into trouble.

 

"Making jokes without me? Harry, you hurt me deeply." A mock sorrowful voiced called out, as Ginny, Luna and Hermione joined the duo, Harry's senses twitching as the air around them had altered compared to when they'd last met.

 

"We were having a game of name that Headmaster." At Ginny's confused look he spent a few seconds elaborating. He'd barely finished his explanation, her eyes glittering.

 

"You can count me in. Sounds like fun!"

 

Luna watched the proceedings curiously, only saying two words in response. "Tempered Wrinkler."

 

While everyone looked on blankly, Harry still listed that as yet another way to refer to The Headmaster.

 

Harry's attention then focused on Hermione, who hesitantly opened her mouth.

 

"Although I won't deny he's an utter bastard," She promptly ignored Harry's exaggerated gasp of shock at her language, "I still can't bring myself to disrespect an elder, though I'll claim my nose was buried too deep in a book to take notice of my peers insulting him."

 

"Works for me!" Harry clapped his hands, almost for emphasis, until he noticed Luna looked a little different than usual. Though her natural state was usually overwhelming calm or serenity, happiness practically radiated from her small frame, blue eyes clearer and sparkling more than he'd ever seen.

 

Come to think of it, Ginny and Hermione had returned to Hogwarts with a similar kind of energy, reminding him of his summer and the feeling of complete freedom and discovery of something new.

 

"How did your training go?" Harry asked finally, giving thanks to this room internally, as a bowl of Neopolitan ice cream appeared on the table. He was in the mood for something sweet and as if to follow Harry's example, various desserts appeared on the table.

 

He listened intently, resisting the urge to close his eyes but rolling the ice cream around on his tongue, savouring the flavour as it was something he rarely, if ever, got to taste when younger. What remained of Dudley's choc ice wrappers after removing them from the bin didn't count.

 

Ginny relaxed fully into her seat, looking a little drained, but perfectly content. "Tiring but rewarding. It's going to take me ages to swing that thing around, but I want to through my own strength. Mostly because I want to see Ron's jaw drop and never close in his shock."

 

As if in contrast, Hermione leaned forward in her enthusiasm, body animated. "I concur with Ginny, I did have a little experience with archery, but this is far more skill based and intense that simply shooting targets. Harry, I didn't have arrows to start with because they're fashioned from spells! Willow works similarly to a wand, but I've been itching to go to the library to see if I can find out more." 

 

Harry didn't doubt her words. He'd known Hermione long enough that she often had internal debates between library time and whatever she was otherwise occupied with.

 

He gave a low whistle. "Arrow spells? Death eaters won't know what hit them."

 

"I can coat Blaze with magic as well." Ginny's expression glazed over, probably imagining the sheer possibilities.

 

"I don't know about you Harry, but if I didn't have a reason to not anger them before, I've got one now." Neville looked somewhat nervous, yet relieved that they actually were on their side.

 

"Luna?"

 

The girl in question, usually so in tune with her surroundings despite people thinking the complete opposite, didn't hear Harry's call.

 

She was overjoyed to make a new friend, as she had precious few over the years but right now, the most wonderful friends surrounded her. Although she would like to be friends with Professor Snape, she had the feeling this wish would be impossible to fulfil unless the weights anchoring him were released. He faced more pressure than perhaps most realised.

 

Professor Lothaire was a recent addition to her friends, as her gift to him was a particularly old butterbeer cork, carved into a small, heart-shaped padlock.

 

Luna didn't tell the Professor, but another wore the key which fit the lock. It required more of her concentration and spell power than usual, but they were a complete success. Unknowingly on his part, it was up to the Professor to find who owned the key.

 

Curiously enough, her most recent friend, Brio, seemed to be firmly rooted in her thoughts. Her mind was the kind where she barely stayed with one train of thought, many possibilities and solutions to father's dilemmas, her friends and her own swirling through her consciousness. But for the past few hours, Brio had remained at the forefront. Her curiosity was perhaps as strong as Hermione's, if not as pursuing and more gentle. All of it seemed to be concentrated around Brio, she wanted to know everything about him. His hair was so lovely and soft, what shampoo, if any, did he use? She would have to ask.

 

It finally took a faint waving of Harry's hand in front of her face for Luna's attention and to her own surprise, her cheeks coloured a faint pink in embarrassment. It was the first time Luna could remember being so distracted and feeling slightly apologetic, she filled in her group of friends on the day, noting how much her lesson differed from Ginny and Hermione, though she realised defensive and protective techniques required a different approach.

 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Harry wondered if Luna had gotten herself into a similar predicament. The spacing out, blushing and heart beating fast kind, much like him. He could tell just how much Luna liked her mentor and while they had no doubt become friends, there was always the possibility of more. It was something he wished for himself with Alistair, even if he didn't ever speak this thought aloud.

 

"It was very relaxing. I feel at home there, though I can't explain why." Luna finished, tilting her head in thought.

 

"It's like when I came to Hogwarts the first time, I thought the same thing, I still do." Harry smiled fondly. Well, it was his second home, the first being with Remus at Evergreen Manor.

 

"How about you Nev?"

 

"Nothing much happened until Professor Lothaire came in. He was told to fetch me by Professor Sprout because I lose all sense of time in the Greenhouse, like Hermione in the library."

 

Hermione nodded, understanding in her gaze. "It's like nothing else matters for that moment in time."

 

"So, what did he want?" Harry couldn't prevent the slight quickening of his heartbeat at the mere mention of his name. Really, it was getting ridiculous now.

 

Neville decided to keep the conversation of his Herbology passion to himself. It wasn't important for them to know, but he would look back on this day with fondness. It may have been simple curiosity and friendliness on the Professor's part but he did appreciate it nonetheless.

 

"He came to find out about the subjects he didn't teach, he wants to know more about them and the students too. He even asked me about Ron, if he'd always been such a-" Here Neville broke off, struggling to find the words.

 

"bellend?" Harry supplied, helpfully in his opinion as Ginny snorted in amusement.

 

With a small smile, Neville nodded. "That'll do. I think he wants to help Ron somehow, that's the impression I got. He can try but you and Hermione have for years."

 

Hermione and Harry shared a look. In truth, it was Hermione trying to change the both of them for the better, it was only more this year that Harry was trying to help Ron, in his own way. The only thing that stopped him from abandonment completely was Mrs Weasley and the fact that once, he believed, before Dumbledore got to him because Harry was sure that's what was affecting Ron so much, their friendship was real all those years ago, at least at the start.

 

"In all fairness to the bloke, he's lived for far longer than we have and might stand a better chance." Harry pointed out as murmurs of agreement passed through the room. "He's welcome to try though, despite everything, I can't bring myself to hate Ron. I pity him more than anything."

 

"Ronald can't hear us, the Wrackspurts follow him." Luna's eyes turned uncharacteristically serious and if there was anything Harry had learned about his eccentric friend, it was there was a shade of truth behind everything spoken which on the surface, didn't seem to make sense.

 

Signing to himself in satisfaction, Harry finished up his bowl of goodness, as he liked to call it. "About the DA, does next weekend work for everyone? We can go about recruiting tomorrow and over the next week, though I think we should do so on Hogwarts grounds, after last year I'm not sure I want to risk Hogsmeade. If Death Eaters can so easily enter the ministry, Hogsmeade would hardly be a challenge."

 

No objections were raised and Harry was satisfied with the results. He had already spotted some promising students across the years including some old members. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with Ron. If he wanted to learn he couldn't stop him, but he just knew that Dumbledore would scan Ron's mind for details of the session. Hesitantly, he brought up his thought to Hermione but unsurprisingly, she had already covered that area.

 

"The contract which all of us sign, requires a tiny bit of our magical signature so in theory, we are all connected to one bit of parchment with enough protection spells to rival Gringotts and by extension, connected to each other. For example, if Dumbledore tries to scan one of our minds, those protections would extend to us. I haven't had the chance to test this as of yet."

 

Harry never failed to be impressed by his friend's ingenuity. "You're a genius, Mione." Shaking his head in amazement with a slight smile at her faint blush, he was reminded of something. Speaking of the bearded one...

 

"The old man wanted to see me today, I had to tap into my Slytherin side, I've never lied so much in my life."

 

He shared the details of his meeting with the group, Neville's colour a little pallid, almost in sympathy. Ginny was impressed he could keep up his act.

 

"How did you manage to become so good at Occlumency in such a short amount of time? I know Professor Snape was harming more than helping last year."

 

Hermione's eyes narrowed, studying him as if under a microscope. She was too clever for her own good.

 

"I promise I'll tell you." Harry placated her as she reluctantly nodded. He hadn't actually discussed his new animagus forms. It was something he wanted to teach members of the DA, even the younger years, though for them he would simply encourage meditation, as it was something he would have benefitted from as a way to relieve stress.

 

"We'd better be off Harry, we have a meeting soon," Hermione spoke up, checking the time. Harry asked for time to flow normally. He'd found that he'd lost track of how much real time had passed and as a result, his body clock altered. A mixture of both worked for him the best and in this case, he really did want the day to be over as it was one pile of stress after another, mixed in with some social time and time spent with his heart drumming against his ribcage or in other words, Alistair.

 

"See you later." Neville departed first, while Ginny offered to walk with Luna back to her common room.

 

Harry and Hermione remained and as he turned to his best friend, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You ready for this?"

 

She patted his hand with her own. "As ready as I'll ever be. As soon as I think Ronald can no longer surprise me, he manages to find another way."

 

Wasn't that the truth?

 

Mentally preparing themselves, Harry and Hermione wondered just what Ron would do this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monster of a chapter, at least for me! I don't think I could push 5k per chapter and I respect anyone who can :O I was so tempted to make the title wankers and bellends xD yay for maturity!


	71. Gryffindor: House of Untidy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione question their decisions, particularly with befriending Ron and once the meeting is over, seek out more members for the DA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry and the gang shared their day and its happenings in the Room of Requirement, with varying degrees of interest.

 The question of what Ron would or wouldn't do didn't have an answer as right now, he was late to the meeting, even with the head students extending the time by an extra five minutes to allow stragglers to arrive. Apparently, Ron was the only one missing. Why was he not surprised? Barely withholding a sigh, Harry could almost feel singular strands of hair turning grey, one by one.

 

"Headmaster appointing him or not if Ron doesn't pull himself together he'll be forcefully kicked out by us, never mind the bloody Professors," Harry muttered into Hermione's ear in exasperation but acceptance of the situation. He did have an inkling, considering he mostly arrived to class by the skin of his teeth, only just missing out on losing points. Harry honestly couldn't decide if Slytherin or Gryffindor disliked him more.

 

Malfoy's face remained expressionless but to Harry, his eyes were alight with anticipation. He just knew the Slytherin would find a way to antagonize him. Admittedly not difficult since Ron dropped himself in the shit most of the time without the aid of anyone else.

 

"I know." Hermione sighed, soft enough so only Harry could hear. "I had a faint hope that Ronald would see the role of a Prefect for what it is and grow a little, take it seriously. But I believe he is the worst. Hogwarts: A History doesn't list terrible Prefects for me to check, unfortunately."

 

Before Harry had the chance to respond, the hum of conversation stopped.

 

"Alright, let's get started. We can't wait much longer for anyone who is late." Wickes spoke, as he and Mayfair seated themselves side by side, the furniture arranged in a circle so that each member was able to see the other. It added an almost cosy touch to the atmosphere and no one was left feeling excluded.

 

The first couple of minutes, The Head Boy and Girl asked each student how they were getting on with their new roles and if there were any issues. It was only the first week so chances are that not many problems would arise until later on in the year. He had to hold back a chuckle at Hermione, limiting her words when he could see she wanted to go into written exam details.

 

The general consensus seemed to be everyone enjoyed what they were doing at the moment, even if some students did feel they lacked the wisdom to be able to guide the younger ones. As for Harry, that was the one area he was confident in, purely because of his experiences in Hogwarts and the way his life had been up until now. The only part of his life which he could class as sheltered was his lack of exposure to magic, thanks to his relatives. If it wasn't for his introduction to the wizarding world, Harry would have spent the rest of his days believing his accidental magic was a figment of his imagination or, knowing his family, locked away in a mental asylum.

 

The only lies that he ever told, were ones to protect himself or others. He would be straight with the students as it was something that he wished for when he was younger, instead of finding himself surrounded on all sides by adults which he had varying amounts of suspicion of. The Dursleys had lied to him and omitted the truth for years previously, after all.

 

He had found the experience so far to be rewarding, though he was certain there'd be times he'd falter.

 

"Potter, what about you?"

 

Harry opened his mouth to respond to Wickes with most of the thoughts that had crossed his mind but was interrupted by an abrupt opening of the door with such force it immediately slammed closed again, narrowly missing the person who'd opened it.

 

He looked in that direction and couldn't stop his jaw from dropping even if he tried. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, truly hoping this wasn't real but from the sighs of disgust and intakes of breath, he came to realize that this, in fact, was happening.

 

Harry could feel his face flaming with embarrassment and as he took a side glance at Hermione, he found her face buried in her hands, hair acting as a shield. He had to squash down the overwhelming urge to apologise to everyone on his behalf.

 

_'What the fuck, Ron?'_

 

He'd not only entered the room in the most impolite way possible on top of being late, but he looked as though bombs had gone off in all directions surrounding him, as he gracelessly plonked into the empty seat on Harry's left side, not even bothering to offer some form of apology.

 

He was single-handedly making their house, look like complete and utter tits. He was only in half uniform, no robes, no tie, shirt completely untucked with more wrinkles than there were smooth parts in the fabric. Harry had looked disheveled in his uniform before in his younger years, but even then that was only because he had never been given a uniform to wear at his old primary school so didn't know how to use ties or smarten himself up, but that was something he'd gradually learned how to do.

 

Ron hadn't even tried, right now he was either completely oblivious to all the eyes on him or aware, but choosing to ignore it. Right now, his hair was messy enough to rival how Harry's used to be.

 

While most of the students seemed to be speechless, all the words unspoken by them, left through Malfoy's lips.

 

"What are you, Weasley, have you no pride?" the usual haughty sneer graced his face, with an added tinge of disgust, at least from Harry's point of view. "We know you belong to a family of pureblood traitors, but that half giant oaf has better dress sense than you."

 

Harry was equal parts irritated at Malfoy for insulting Hagrid, but also in agreement. It's as if Ron didn't care about anything, except getting his own way.

 

Face matching his hair with the intensity of colour, Ron clenched his fists, offering the fiercest glare he could manage which, compared to Harry and Snape, might as well have been a Rabbit versus Aragog because the Slytherin didn't so much as blink in response, simply responding with the smirk which used to irritate Harry to no end, the one which would taunt on purpose but even if he did respond, Ron always responded quicker.

 

"Fuck off, Ferret." Sneering, Ron crossed his arms but to both their surprise, Malfoy showed no reaction. It seems that Harry wasn't the only one who'd matured over the summer.

 

"Quiet!" Mayfair snaps, her harsh look saved for Ron more than Malfoy. Expression turning neutral, she directed her gaze towards Harry. "Apologies Potter, continue."

 

The mood in the room afterwards was subdued, Ron sulking impressively enough to rival that of any child and Malfoy looking quietly triumphant. Harry was unaware that Greengrass was made Prefect as well, as he didn't see her during the meeting on the train, but she was not the only one he didn't see. Susan Bones was there as well. In fact, most of the occupants of the room were members of the DA last year, managing to expand to some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs about a month after Gryffindors.

 

He couldn't look at Greengrass for long, wincing at the sheer amount of loathing which radiated from her small frame. She was one of the smaller girls in her year but was intimidating enough to rival Professor McGonagall, a woman who had seen more of the world than her.

 

He didn't envy Ron in the slightest. 

 

After so long, every member had shared their opinions, all except for Ron. Wickes and Mayfair looked at each other and Harry could see their reluctance.

 

Seeming to resign himself, Wickes addressed Ron, asking the same of him as he had for everyone else.

 

Harry held his breath, Hermione hadn't moved from her earlier position much, only enough to peek through the gaps of her fingers, face bright red.

 

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, so softly he almost missed it.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"As members of Gryffindor, will we manage to survive this year?"

 

He looked over at Hermione, patting her lightly on the back. "Don't worry, we will. I have a plan to make it more bearable." A sheepish smile crossed his face but all too soon, their short conversation was over and even if they wanted to, neither of them was sure if they could block Ron's words out.

 

"Well, I like being able to remove points, the number of snots getting away with things these days are ridiculous." Harry silently choked on his own saliva, eyes watering with his attempt to hold in coughs. Did Ron realise what he was saying? The trio had managed to get away with an unbelievable amount of things which in reality, the points loss would have rendered Gryffindor in negatives, even going from first year til now.

 

Harry didn't have the willpower to listen to anything more, not seeing the need to fall into a bout of depression over what Ron had become. They were all saved from their thoughts by an abrupt knock on the door which shortly opened, revealing Professor Snape.

 

'Oh shit.' As those words passed through Harry's mind, they seemed to reflect on Ron's face as well. They faced the door and Mayfair, unaware of Ron's skin colour turning to curdled milk, faced her Head of House.

 

"Good evening Professor."

 

"Evening, Mayfair." Professor Snape was as curt as always, silently handing her parchment with his spidery scrawl. "The deadline is next week."

 

Apparently, that was all he needed. But before he left the room, naturally Ron caught his eyes. Hell, even Trelawney could spot Ron in his state and she was completely oblivious.

 

"Weasley!" Though addressing Ron only more than one student jumped to attention, his classroom voice making their reactions instinctual. "If you do not present yourself in an appropriate manner within the next five seconds, I will remove house points."

 

Ron sputtered, not even having the chance to protest before Gryffindor lost 10 points. Harry considered that generous. With a look of disdain, wandless magic corrected Ron's attire, his tie replaced, but perhaps a little tighter than was necessary.

 

"If I ever see you looking as disgraceful as you were again, I will not hesitate to give you daily detentions."

 

And with that, Snape appeared as quickly as he had swooped in, several breaths releasing as some students held them in. Ron didn't seem to know what to do with himself and sensing that none of the students could focus after that display, The Head Boy and Girl called it a day, calling over to Ron and presumably giving him a warning if the scowl on his face was anything to go by.

 

As one by one the students left, Harry signaled with his eyes to Malfoy and after a moment did the same with Greengrass. Hermione stayed by his side, knowing instinctively what it was he wanted to say.

 

"Potter?" A fine eyebrow arched, both Slytherins maintaining a neutral expression.

 

"You remember the secret club meeting you tried to crash in on as part of Umbridge's' Inquisitorial Squad?"

 

A faint grimace crossed the boy's face. "I saw an opportunity, nothing more. Anyone who sticks that close to the minister I want to keep away from. But yes. Your point?"

 

Harry was as serious as he could possibly be. "Do you both want to join? I leave it up to you but there's no need for it to be secret anymore and I'm welcoming anyone who wants to be a part of it. You'll have to sign a contract though."

 

"That is to be expected. What about you, Granger? No protests to Slytherins joining?" Greengrass asked a silent Hermione.

 

"Of course not. No protests to joining a club filled with Muggleborns?" Hermione returned, as Greengrass shook her head once.

 

"The only objection I have is Weasley, assuming he will be there."

 

"He most likely will be, but I'll have words with him," Harry promised. "It's important now more than ever that we work together and I'll make him understand, even if I have to duel the point into his skull."

 

Matching smirks crossed their faces and after a moment of near silent debate, they told Harry and Hermione to meet them tomorrow at 3 pm, the third-floor corridor. The very room fluffy used to be in, but now nothing remained, not even the trap door that was once there, he'd checked. Though the possibility it remained masked with magic was high. Not knowing or caring where Ron went off to, Harry returned to the dorms, ending one very long Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be interesting, if I had a stamp of guarantee I would use it! Early morning on the 25th, a good idea hit me out of nowhere and I was feeling like a genius for a few seconds :P Hope you've all had a nice Christmas, to those of you who celebrate :)


	72. Lost, Then Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the course of his life, Harry had learned many things. One was to never ignore his instincts and gut feelings while the other was a realisation that he attracted trouble, much like a magnet. Both proved to be correct on this Sunday afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Ron once more demonstrates just why he isn't suited for the role of Prefect, as Harry takes his first steps towards recruiting Slytherins for the DA.

While Saturday was eventful, to say the least, Harry's Sunday was the most normal he could ever wish for, though adding Slytherins to the ranks when compared to his past could class as abnormal. After many questions on their part, some which Hermione helped to answer, they were one small step forward to being united as opposed to three houses all against the other, with two of them feuding for groundless reasons.

 

However, as Harry had come to understand from a young age, nothing in his life ever remained normal. Once Malfoy and Greengrass had left, he informed Hermione he would join her later on. The feeling that he had somewhere to be over the past week remained, but not enough where it distracted him, In fact, he'd been so busy, he could easily ignore it. But since he'd entered this room, it had become impossible to ignore, much more insistent than previously.

 

Setting wards so he would know if someone tried to open the closed door, he looked around the room, scrutinising every detail. The first time he hadn't the chance, as Fluffy wanted to play tug of war with their first year ragdoll-like bodies, at least if he'd had it his way. The second time was simple curiosity during his second year. Apparently, his near-death experience wasn't enough of a deterration.

 

Nothing had changed at all. The only explanation that Harry could think of was that he'd changed, drastically. And in doing so, he was able to detect what he wasn't able to before. What that was, however, remained to be seen.

 

He toyed with the idea of contacting Alistair, but didn't find it overly necessary, as what he may find could turn out to be trivial and despite that he was here to be closer to Dumbledore, he genuinely had a job to do as well. He was aware how much work Professors had, even the temporary DADA Professors for the time that they remained and for those who actually did choose to do their job properly.

 

From what Harry could detect magically and physically, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Lack of magic would strike him as strange considering their surroundings, but it ticked the box for that. No stone was out of place either, though he was unsure if the trap door was removed entirely or simply covered over. Who knows if another student would wander by and decide to go on a similarly hairbrained adventure to his?

 

However, he never ignored his instincts, they had either saved or helped on more than one occasion. He tried the one sure thing he could think of, The Marauder's Map.

 

Over the time he had spent with Remus, aside from Harry keeping him company during the full moon along with drinking and duelling sessions, a lot of the time was spent discussing Remus' time at Hogwarts and Harry's current experiences. None of them could deny that the map had been invaluable, but was a little outdated, considering it was made when Remus was a student. Between them, they had managed to refine the map into something concrete. It now differentiated between those who have similar names and Hogwarts itself became far more detailed, thanks to Harry's knowledge, the Chamber of Secrets could be accessed by the map, though not without an activation key in Parseltongue. Recorded voice clips wouldn't work either, he had made sure of it.

 

Though progress was slow, the pair had pooled their knowledge of The Ministry, the map would show what little they had if the person in question with the map was on Ministry grounds. They had yet to be able to find a way to see it from elsewhere. The Forbidden Forest was something they considered, but neither of them knew the forest well enough to be able to pinpoint anything of note.

 

Needless to say, it was the new and improved version but right now, even though it was an apparent error, it provided further evidence that all was not what it seemed.

 

 **'Third-Floor Corridor- Entrance to Underground Chambers'** flickered beneath his gaze, The name itself was not solid, appearing and disappearing for brief intervals.  With a new sense of purpose, he allowed himself to focus, this time, looking for abnormalities in heat. The castle itself was never warm so too much heat would be an indicator.

 

Thankful that he'd had his eyes corrected at the least, he crouched to the floor, moved to the corners, looked above him to the ceiling, even ran his fingers over the roughness of the stonework. Nothing was left untouched.

 

He had no idea how much time had passed, but one of the stones in the upper far corner caught his eye. Out of reach, it held a faint pinprick of warm colour. He thought it was his eyes playing tricks but similarly to the room name appearing and disappearing on the map, so did this heat signature.

 

While he could try to summon that specific stone, he had no idea just what it was exactly. The possibility that it could trigger something which he would prefer to leave alone was high. Not that touching the stone without the use of magic would guarantee it to be any safer, but Harry had seen what happened with a summoning charm carelessly used. It involved a toxic potions classroom, an evacuation, a sneering, hissing and sharp-tongued professor and one oblivious looking Crabbe.

 

He could try casting Wingdardium Leviosa on himself, though it wasn't recommended due to how awkward it could be. The more complex or heavy an object, the more power it required. While he was certain he had enough, there were easier ways.

 

Briefly entertaining the thought of transfiguring a trampoline and bouncing up to the stone, he shook his head once, as if to try and shake the madness from it.

 

Instead, he transfigured a stepladder from a pencil in his pocket, though bouncing and trying to reach for the stone simultaneously would have proved entertaining no doubt. His footing was sure and in no time, within arms reach. Once over, though he was sure no one would believe him, he was afraid of heights, but soon cured of that with Vernon forcing him to climb on top of the roof to check their antenna. There were many incidences which would be cause for concern, especially for the neighbours, but he had the feeling Dumbledore's influence stopped any possible interference.

 

Outwardly, the stone didn't differ from the others and he couldn't detect anything remotely harmful. In fact, if not for the combination of the feeling he had walking in, the map and his magic, he would assume this was just an ordinary room, as any other student would.

 

Adding this to another of the questionably risky things he'd done, he reached out and touched the stone which to his surprise, came loose and dropped into his palm.

 

 _'Why this stone?'_   He wondered, looking around to see if anything had changed and to his confusion, everything remained the same. The map was still fluctuating, unable to keep the name of the room listed.

 

His brain was going around in circles, as he placed his feet back on solid ground. It seemed as though he would continue to be in this state until he was unnerved by the silence.

 

It was then, that it hit him. The unnatural silence. Even in quieter areas of Hogwarts, there was always the sound of faint breeze or the crackling of the sconces outside if no students were there to muffle the noise. There was nothing of the sort, even though there were two sconces directly outside of the door. To check he put his ear to it. Nothing. After a moment he opened the door and heard what he should have been able to, even with the door closed. That meant only one thing.

 

He closed the door, looking at the room with new eyes. "This room is an illusion." Muttering, he scrutinised the stone as if he could solve its secrets. "And this is the anchor tied to it."

 

It explained most of the questions he had, at least.

 

As those words were spoken aloud, the room suddenly shifted, revealing one very different. Keeping the stone with him, he slipped it into his pocket, once more checking the map. This time, there was a solid name, simply saying,  **'Underground chambers'.** He was struck with a sense of deja vu. While the entrance was an illusion, this room remained the one where Ron directed them to play Wizard's Chess, though the lack of pieces rendered the room sparse.

 

At first, he thought the room was devoid of everything, however upon closer inspection, a section of the wall close to the door where they found the unconscious troll differed from the rest. Small, metal hooks protruded from the stone, several rows, in fact, with keys. above each hook, something carved into the stone. V1 for the first key, V2 for the second, all the way down to V30. Harry couldn't even begin to understand what it meant. V1, however, was missing.

 

"Why are there so many keys? There's nothing here to open." His voice was barely at a whisper, caution laced through it. He didn't like this at all. He had a horrible feeling that by the end of this day, he'd find out something else unpleasant.

 

Someone is here then, the empty keyspace was proof of this. Just to be on the safe side, he cast a variety of concealment spells upon his person that would make the most seasoned of Aurors raise a brow in admiration and once satisfied, proceeded through the next door, already open and thankfully lacking a Mountain Troll.

 

Harry expected something far more heavily protected, though he supposed Dumbledore was under the mindset of why bother when no one knew its existence anyway? Well, he presumed no one else knew about this. As for Dumbledore, he was certain the old man had his knarled fingers clutched around this particular mystery.

 

As he drew closer to the room which used to hold the mirror of Erised, tense and a touch irritated voices caught his attention, one he recognised immediately. The other, he had never heard. Sticking close to the wall, he only moved his head slightly, enough to see the entire room. Though he didn't appreciate the way he'd come to gain this ability, he was nevertheless thankful that he was used to not exclaiming in surprise or pain of any kind, or he would be discovered immediately. It was a close call, however.

 

_'What the fuck is this?'_

 

The room was the same basic structure, but what was once an oval-shaped room with pillars about half a foot distance between each, the spaces in between were not just walls.

 

They were individual prison cells, with bars that had little to no gaps, barely enough room to poke a little finger through the spaces. And in each, they looked to be human. Though closer inspection on his part revealed that wasn't the case at all. The prisoner closest to him rocked back and forth, deathly pale but with a hint of fang peeking through, eyes glowing red but no words escaping their lips, probably silenced. The others looked to be a similar state from what he could see, with varying eye colours, most locked onto the happenings in the centre of the room and Harry could see why.

 

Unlike the tiny cells fitted between pillars, this one was larger, rectangular and looked more structurally sound. A man was on his knees before Dumbledore and another man which Harry couldn't identify, still as a statue and just as silent. Whether he had been silenced like the cells or simply quiet he wasn't sure. Blood coated the stones beneath him, his clothing and the state of it painfully reminding Harry of his own situation with the Dursleys, where he was pretty much a prisoner himself.

 

Whoever had caused the gashes, it had happened recently, as blood still trickled from the wounds but even as Harry watched, they healed over, albeit at a much slower rate than what he'd seen from Alistair. But then again, Alistair wasn't going through torture for Merlin knows how much time.

 

"Give it up Albus, it's been 74 bloody years. Do you actually think this thing will spill anything? Just kill him and be done with it. Or better yet, let me test some of my more deadlier creations."

 

Though Harry couldn't see his face, a shiver ran down his spine. He was reminded of a more collected version of Bellatrix Lestrange.

 

"No. This creature knows something vital to the war effort. He is one of the oldest living Vampires that we know of and there may be more. He will tell me."

 

Harry was seeing and hearing everything at once apparently. At last, here was the real Dumbledore that only a select few knew existed. There was nothing jolly or light-hearted about his words or tone, no false pleasantries. It was the voice of a cold and calculating man who was veering towards the dark more than Harry thought.

 

He was keeping Vampires prisoners, underneath the school no less? Granted Harry had hardly walked into this area, he would have had no idea if not for unique circumstances. But one slip of the doddering old fool's mind, a cage left unlocked could spell disaster. There were thirty vampires, all obviously starved of blood or losing blood. Let loose on a school full of students, he didn't even want to think about the consequences. Lilah was different, however. She chose to give up blood of her own free will and was now paying for the consequences of that as much as it pained him. Everyone in this room was starved against their will. He couldn't blame their lack of control and he didn't fear them at all. The most prevalent emotion was a calm and quiet anger, directed towards the walking scrotum bag currently assaulting his retinas.

 

Dumbledore had once again surpassed his expectations. Just when he thought he'd reached a new low, this revelation was dropped into his lap.

 

The other man gave a snort of frustration, informing Dumbledore that he knew where he would be should he have need of him again. Harry caught his breath, the brush of sleeve as the man passed by revealing what at first he thought was the mark of a Death Eater, but it was coloured yet faded, in the shape of a Phoenix.

 

Gradually exhaling, he watched as Dumbledore muttered words by the man's head that he couldn't pick up, forcefully pouring liquid into his mouth and afterwards, pushed back into his cell by magic, the missing key from the hook locking the door.

 

Harry had a close shave when Dumbledore stopped his movements, close by. But he apparently detected nothing, continuing on his way and replacing the key. He didn't use the exit, disappearing on the spot. It would make sense that the Headmaster could use some form of apparition.

 

He made absolutely sure that no other sounds could be heard, going back to the wall and removing the key Dumbledore had placed back. He was in complete disbelief and more than on edge. While the chances of someone finding this place was low, why didn't he have the keys assigned to his magical signature so that only he could touch them? Harry had the key in hand and was returning to the previous room and not suffering from any ill effects. It seemed very careless but he wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

 

He cautiously walked into the room, a little unnerved at all the hungry eyes. One by one, he removed his concealment charms and though all he wanted to do was help, he couldn't be sure of his reaction.

 

He seated himself before the cell and knew the man realised his presence. He cocked his head, saying nothing.

 

"I don't know who you are or who any of you are, but I want to help." He kept his voice firm, eyes not wavering even as the man before him slowly looked up.

 

He was overcome with a wave of familiarity, though he couldn't be sure why. A strand of hair by his fringe remained black, while the rest of the waves were snow white. A pair of silver eyes, slightly sunken in pallid skin but holding a startling amount of sharpness and clarity, despite his weakened state, along with clothing more fit to cleaning floors than for wearing.

 

He didn't physically look like anyone he knew. Did he? He looked more closely. Hang on a minute...

 

"Harry Potter."

 

Pulled abruptly from his thoughts, his eyes widened slightly. "You know who I am?"

 

"The bearded fool, a mind so open, that I have learned all sordid secrets, many of which need to be forgotten." He was rather succinct and Harry grimaced in sympathy. He didn't want to know what the old man got up to in his spare time.

 

"Yes, I know who you are." He answered finally if a bit sluggishly. Harry could tell he was normally well-spoken, but whatever had been done to him and for how long left lasting damage.

 

A kernel of frustration entered his mind as he clenched his fist around the key. There was something, niggling at the back of his head. He knew who this was! He had never met him before but he was a link! Not to mention that the feeling he'd had around Hogwarts and first entering the illusion room paled in comparison to now, it was almost the kind of ache he received after a particularly long and hard Quidditch practice.

 

He looked once again. True, the man was worse for wear, but his facial features, they were so similar.

 

Oh, fuck.

 

Harry remembered the sad look in Alistair's eyes and recently, sharing the fact that his brother was missing and he was a Professor at the castle precisely because he was sure Dumbledore was involved with his disappearance.

 

Heart pounding loudly in his chest, he knew whatever answer he received, it would change everything.

 

"Are you... Solomon Sakari Lothaire?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels like my longest chapter, sometimes I forget to actually stop because I'm so deeply immersed in what I'm writing. Happy New Year everyone! A little late but I hope 2018 is a fulfilling one for you all :)


	73. It's All in the Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion, along with a plan from Harry to hopefully right a wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Since recruiting Greengrass and Malfoy for the DA, Harry decided to remain in the room which they used to do so, due to the feeling he had upon arriving at the castle growing stronger and with it, found more than he could have ever expected.

Harry was pinned by a gaze so intense, breathing became complicated after asking. Though he hadn't given a verbal answer, there was no doubt in Harry's mind of his identity. They both commanded the same respect, with equally intense auras.

 

After an indeterminable amount of time, he nodded once.

 

Harry closed his eyes, honestly wishing that Voldemort would show up and randomly try to kill Dumbledore. As much as he would relish the privilege, he also didn't fancy Azkaban.

 

So, he needed to contact Alistair after all. Though, it didn't feel right doing so without informing Solomon of the situation first. While clearly, he'd used his imprisonment time to scan the mind of his captor Harry didn't know how often he came here. There was a chance that this was the first time since Alistair joined the staff and after 74 years of imprisonment with an open mind to read, Harry doubted Solomon bothered to check frequently when he knew everything there possibly was to know and most likely some he didn't need to.

 

After a moment's thought, he pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, showing the bracelet which Alistair gave him. Solomon looked at it for a few seconds, then back at Harry.

 

"Though you are proficient with magic enough for the fool to not detect you, our family's heirlooms always shine with a unique magic of their own, one which I am very familiar with."

 

For the first time since entering the room, there was a brief flicker of emotion.

 

Though Solomon didn't ask for an explanation, Harry had to say something, mainly to distract from his own anger. That was the last thing he needed right now.

 

"I met Alistair by accident, wanting to visit Transylvania and by extension Lothaire Castle. People spoke of it with fear but it turned out he was harmlessly pranking anyone who entered. I didn't run. We talked, I stayed for a few days and left with an alliance and this." He moved his wrist for emphasis. "He's the new Defence Professor this year, he joined because he was looking for you and I think I provided him with an extra opportunity."

 

Harry looked slightly apologetic. "I have a mental link with him, however, I didn't want to go ahead without informing you first."

 

"Thank you." Harry began to realise he wasn't one for wasting words, simply using them when necessary.

 

Palms sweating with nerves, he reached over, unlocking the door to let Solomon out, who looked at him seriously.

 

"I do not have the strength nor desire to attack you." Indeed, all Solomon did was sit across from Harry, movements just as sluggish as his words.

 

Now Harry was nervous for an entirely different reason. He had seen Alistair angry, the class had to take off their robes due to the blistering heat when he experienced that particular emotion. Absolutely nothing would compare to his fury once he sees this.

 

 _'Are you a Gryffindor or not?'_   Mentally slapping himself upside the head, he tentatively opened the connection they shared.

 

_'Alistair?'_

 

 _'Ah, if it isn't my endearing little Gryffindor, good afternoon!'_   A beautiful smile. Harry cursed himself at the flush on his cheeks, which deepened as Solomon watched him intently.

 

_'Are you busy? Even if you are you need to drop everything and come here, I'm serious.'_

 

_'I am simply watching over Miss Caltir while dealing with the wonders of school-related paperwork rather than my usual paperwork, I am sure a House Elf can watch over her for a little while.'_

 

"Dobby." At Harry's call, said House Elf appeared. "Will you watch over Lilah Caltir in Professor Lothaire's office while he's away? I'd appreciate it." As an offering, he removed one of his socks, this time decorated with snitches. "This will go well with your Broomstick sock."

 

Dobby accepted it, looking as though he'd discovered the lost treasure of a watery kingdom.

 

"Harry Potter is being so very kind! Dobby will help." Then he disappeared, the sock enough of a distraction that he hadn't paid any attention to his surroundings.

 

_'Ah, that's one problem solved. Harry, are those your socks on his feet?'_

 

_'Yes.'_

 

_'I will not inquire further, though I do see why you are not phased by Vampires when you gift elves with animated socks. Where are you at the moment?'_

 

_'I don't know if you can tell, I found this place partly by instinct and partly by accident, the entrance was an illusion.'_

 

_'I am able to detect your location through the bracelet you wear. What is it that you need me for?'_

 

Harry couldn't speak momentarily, within his mind or out loud. _'...This isn't something I can explain, it's better if you see for yourself.'_

 

He could feel the concern and his heart twinged with sadness, even if a large part of him was happy at finding Solomon, the state he was in along with the other Vampires held captive he felt nothing but regret. That this happened to begin with and that he had not found them all sooner.

 

His heart hadn't stopped pounding since the realisation he came to with Solomon, however, it was now beating so fast there was a slight worry he'd pass out. Often lightheadedness and his out of control heart was the norm when around Alistair but this time it would be for that and so much more.

 

Suddenly, Solomon's head snapped to attention, seeming to ignore all fatigue as his body matched the alertness of his eyes for the moment, focusing on a spot behind him.

 

Harry followed his gaze, watching as instead of apparition, Alistair seemed to emerge from the shadows, of which there were a few, sconces dimly lit.

 

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry's mind couldn't help but wander into forbidden territory when faced with a casual him, wearing a shirt similar to the one he wore at Lothaire Castle's library, only this one was white, with a few buttons undone, enough that he could see a glimpse of collarbone peeking through.

 

But, he needn't have worried about his straying thoughts for much longer, as they soon came to a crashing halt.

 

Alistair couldn't prevent his expression of shock even if he wanted to but just as quickly it left, only to be replaced with white-hot anger, of the likes which he had never experienced in all his years of living or if so, it occurred a millennium ago.

 

He knew that Harry wouldn't have wanted to call him if it wasn't something important, as quite often during their mind conversations he'd caught brief passing thoughts of being a burden to Alistair if he relied on or spoke to him more than necessary. It wasn't something which he had mentioned, however, the thought of Harry feeling this way cast the curious sensation of a stinging hex over his heart.

 

However, in the here and now, absolutely nothing else encompassed his thoughts, not even Harry. Nothing but the overwhelming urge to feed on Albus fucking Dumbledore, to drain the man's aged and still very much alive body dry. Though death would be a blessing, he had no wish to live with the alternative, though the irony of Dumbledore existing as something he despised with every one of his wheezing breaths had him chuckling with dark amusement.

 

He flexed his fist, once, twice. More for grounding than to encourage blood flow, like with humans.

 

He knew that his eyes were no longer the faked brown or the usual orange, fangs extended. He was just on the brink, only holding himself back because it would not foster a good relationship between their kind and humans. Many still believed in the man but one day, this would change. That would be the time to strike.

 

But seeing so many of his kind, he could physically feel their pain. All Magical Vampires had a thin connection with each other, naturally, with kin, the connection ran much deeper. He could sense so much hunger, sorrow, pain. But more than anything, the wish that they could end their existence.

 

All except for one.

 

Though his connection had been cut off many years ago, even in such close proximity, he couldn't detect the reassuring presence of his brother.

 

He was unaware of his slight trembles and the blistering heat of the room until a familiar warmth lightly touched his hand.

 

And with it, the bloodlust slowly dissipated, though the agitation remained in his fanged snarl.

 

"That wizened bastard. I should like to castrate him with his own beard and feed him the results."

 

Harry choked on his own saliva. Well, what little remained in his mouth. It had gone dry from the heat in the air.

 

Alistair gave him an apologetic glance but he waved it away, green eyes blinking rapidly.

 

"Aguamenti." He let the water spray his face, closing his eyes in bliss as he drank some as well.

 

Harry removed his hand from Alistair's own, who looked a lot calmer now. From all the experiences he'd had, he could now say he knew the feeling of being inside a volcano. That wasn't something you could say every day.

 

He resumed his earlier position on the floor, watching as Alistair crouched before Solomon, with the most heartbreaking and open expression Harry had seen, as though the image before him would shatter, crumbling away into nothingness.

 

He no longer took note of the heat in the room, remaining as quiet as possible, not wanting to interrupt.

 

"Lunar." Though of course, it was physically impossible, it was as if his heart had cracked down the middle. His brother, so dear to him, was right in front of his eyes. Though no one in the world knew him better than Alistair, right now it was as if he didn't at all.

 

Despite Solomon's age, somehow a touch of innocence remained. Something which Alistair has done his best to keep there, protective as a child and overtime, changing to protecting each other.

 

He saw no traces of innocence, harshly pushed away and leaving behind sharp edges. He suspected Phoenix Blood had everything to do with his current condition, including physical changes and certainly their lack of mental connection.

 

Reaching out a hand, he clasped his brothers own, the coldness familiar yet distant to him, but undeniably, undoubtedly and uniquely Solomon.

 

"Lunar..." Alistair repeated, as if in prayer. Squeezing the hand interlocked with his own as if it were a lifeline.

 

While occasionally he had come close to losing control, not having a handle on his emotions at all was a rarity. He could detect the lingering heat in the air from his earlier anger, perhaps more acutely due to his lowered body temperature. But then, something happened which he didn't expect.

 

With a free hand, Alistair touched the skin beneath his eyes and when withdrawing it, traces of wetness lingered. He looked at his hand as if he'd never seen it before and Solomon's eyes widened slightly.

 

"Brother, are you crying?"

 

Alistair blinked as if to confirm it and as a show of support, Solomon squeezed the hand still held in an almost death grip.

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, tears slowly trickled down beneath his lashes. But a section of his heart warmed, as he could feel Harry's compassion shine through like a little ray of sunshine.

 

Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled Solomon into a gentle embrace, aware of the trauma his body had suffered, sorrow not diminishing at Solomon stiffening, something which he'd never done but, eventually, the embrace was returned, gradually increasing in strength to the point where they were unable to tell where one ended and the other began.

 

Alistair's practised hand ran through Solomon's hair, the same feeling remained even if white rather than black filled his vision.

 

"I missed you," Solomon whispered into his ear, the first traces of emotion he'd heard.

 

 _ **'I missed you too.'**   _Alistair was unable to physically return those words, instead strengthing his embrace to convey what he couldn't physically speak right now.

 

Though neither wanted to let the other go, for fear that either would suddenly disappear, they eventually pulled away. Harry caught Alistair's eyes as he let out a watery laugh, Solomon, unknown to the pair, looking at them in interest.

 

Poor Harry was unable to adapt to the heat, casting repeatedly to the point where he was absolutely drenched, still releasing jets into his face to cool off, also a convenient way to hide his own tears, at Alistair's emotional reaction and their brotherly reunion.

 

He gave an embarrassed smile in response. "It's boiling in here. If you went to The North Pole and released your heated rage you'd single-handedly be the cause of global warming."

 

He dried himself off, thankful that the room was gradually cooling down. and watched with concern as Solomon furrowed his brow.

 

"The Phoenix Blood?" Alistair asked, gripping his shoulder.

 

"Ah. Would I be correct in the guess that Rupert informed you?"

 

"Yes, though he was unable to do more than tell me how you were affected and what it would do. Are you in pain?" Worry swam within the depths of his eyes.

 

Solomon thought for a moment, unable to come to a decision but voiced his honest opinion. "I was at the start, but as this condition is constant, I am unable to distinguish between types of pain. I am normally in my mindscape, the majority of it solely dedicated to various ways the fool can die."

 

That was something Harry could wholeheartedly support. But at Solomon's words, he jumped a little. Phoenix Blood? So that was what Dumbledore had given him. According to records, Phoenix Blood willingly given was rarer than tears or a tail feather, as both could be lost painlessly. Phoenixes were proud creatures and while born of elements, their sole purpose was to help, to heal, including themselves. Shedding blood went against their nature and only if their master was in great need would they part with even a drop.

 

There was certainly more than a drop there and although his stomach churned at the thought, Dumbledore was probably using Fawkes. To not only treat Fawkes so horribly but using his blood to hurt Solomon, Harry thought this a special kind of cruel.

 

However, what if he could help? Of course, he had no idea if it would work, but it was better than sitting by and doing nothing. Fawkes' tears were able to cancel out any negative effects of Basilisk poison and just like with his Tattoo of Aela when animated with a part of her, the tears had remained in his bloodstream, confirmed the very same day Remus was committed to St Mungo's as largely at their insistence, he went for a checkup and by some miracle the results had remained private, the indication of this being The Daily Prophet having a distinct lack of news about him.

 

Though the blood and tears both came from Fawkes, they were used in the complete opposite way, one to heal, one to hurt. Harry didn't know if the effects would change since his plan was to have Solomon drink from him rather than Fawkes crying on wounds but the more he thought over it, the more stubbornly determined he was to try.

 

Harry waited for a lull in the conversation before speaking. "I've got an idea."

 

"Of course Harry." Alistair smiled in encouragement, gesturing for him to speak, no traces of earlier emotion and back to his usual self.

 

"Blood of Fawkes, unwillingly given." He pointed at Solomon. "Tears of Fawkes, willingly given." He pointed to himself. "I still have traces of the tears in me, as they were used to cleanse Basilisk poison. If Solomon has my blood, the tears in it might help to remove the damage caused by Fawkes' blood."

 

Though of course, he was nervous, anyone would be when practically offering themselves to a Vampire, but he couldn't be more serious about this and to show it, he didn't look away from either of them, Alistair sighing to himself.

 

"Ah, with such a passionate look in your eyes, how could your aid be refused?" He smiled at Harry's resulting sputter. "Solomon?"

 

At Alistair's unasked question, Solomon stared at Harry for a short while. "Are you sure? It will be difficult to stop until I have had enough, to the point where fatigue is stronger than hunger."

 

"I've got blood replenishing potions with me." He gestured to the pouch he always carried on his side. "Not that I intended to use them for this, it's just that I've spent so much time in The Hospital Wing Madam Pomfrey has allowed me to engrave my name underneath the bed I use."

 

Solomon inclined his head in acceptance, over the sound of Alistair's chuckles. "Very well."

 

_'I can see that you are nervous, it's alright, I will be here.'_

 

At the mental voice of reassurance, Harry's tense muscles relaxed a little, though he was caught off guard when Alistair sat behind him, a hand lightly resting on his side.

 

Solomon said nothing, knowing that both of them would feel drained for different reasons, even if the outcome was unknown.

 

As Solomon's eyes shifted from silver to violet and his fangs elongated, Harry couldn't help but watch in fascination, his previous nerves almost forgotten. He'd faced far more terrifying and dangerous things in this life and by Merlin's wrinkly ball bag he wasn't going to let something like this affect him. It was like pulling a pint for someone, except a little more bloody and involved a great deal of flesh.

 

Marvelling at the direction his mind sometimes wandered, he truly hoped for the best outcome, waiting for the fangs to pierce his skin and using Alistair's calming touch as a focal point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was agonising over this so much while still enjoying the process of writing, I wanted it to be believable (in a sense since this is Vampires we're talking about here) that even though they are beings with immense control and power, the one weak point they have, is for each other. Hope I pulled it off <3 
> 
> ~Honestly had no idea for this summary


	74. Corruption Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solomon drinks Harry's blood, but of course, it doesn't come without a few bumps along the way. All throughout this Harry's trying desperately to keep his heart rate in the healthy section.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Brothers are reunited, Harry's sweating balls and then he has an idea, to hopefully help Solomon out.
> 
> ~Sorry if my username change affected anything to do with this, I know it makes all links anyone including me has shared up until now null and void but beyond that, no idea

Once the fangs touched Harry's skin, he couldn't help but flinch slightly, more in surprise than anything. Alistair's hand still rested nearby, his other reaching around to cover his own. As long as he didn't move the one on his side. Unfortunately, that was a ticklish spot.

 

_'Ah Harry, I am delighted that with each day, I learn something new about you.'_

 

Oh, bollocks. Apparently, he was thinking hard enough about that, to the point of Alistair picking it up. He chuckled mischievously through their connection.

 

Harry sucked in a short breath, as a sharp pain ran through him, neck tingling.

 

_'There are many places for a Vampire to bite. While Solomon had the choice of the carotid arteries where the richer blood flows, you would lose it quicker, which is why he is drinking from your external jugular vein.'_

 

_'Good to know.'_

 

And he wasn't being sarcastic either, morbidly curious and although the situation itself was one of the strangest he'd found himself in, after the initial piercing itself there was hardly any pain, just mild throbbing and the sensation of losing blood in a controlled way.

 

In fact, the feeling it gave him was similar to the buzz of the day he drank with Remus. While his heart should be pounding with a steady rhythm, he instead gradually began to calm down and with every part of him, wished for his blood to do some good for once, rather than giving Voldemort a barely human shape. Though, the reason why he didn't look more human was probably due to the Horcruxes, it could also be because at the time Wormtail removed his blood, it wasn't forcibly taken as in that short moment of panic, he took it to firmly convince himself that he did want his blood taken, in the hope that the not entirely complete ritual would have negative results.

 

Solomon's hand rested on his shoulder, for support as he started to suck on the puncture wounds harder than before, almost desperately. Harry couldn't blame him, outside of Phoenix Blood he doubted Dumbledore had given him any other kind. In fact, it may very well have been the one thing keeping him alive, even if it was toxic. At the very core, it remained blood.

 

However, it was becoming harder to keep a clear focus, eyes blinking blearily. He'd gone from feeling like a kid on a sugar rush to sleeping for a week. Just when he thought he was about to nod off, Solomon released him, fangs retracting as he started to breathe heavily, more for therapeutic reasons than necessary.

 

_'My apologies. He is very careful and considerate with who he drinks from, however, he has not had an adequate blood source for many years, longer than what is recommended. If your blood had not affected him as much, he would heal your marks. Allow me.'_

 

In a flash, Alistair was now seated in front of him, similar to Solomon. As his tongue swiped over the puncture spot methodically, he had to clench his teeth against the embarrassing moan that would slip out otherwise. The spot that Alistair had licked clean and now fully healed, remained feverish as the rest of his body throbbed sweetly, alternately hot and cold and knew instinctively his blush put all others to shame.

 

Watching Alistair close his eyes and run the tongue used to heal him over his lips to remove excess blood really didn't help either.

 

"You taste wonderful, Harry." How Alistair could say that with a straight face he didn't know, but his heart once more tried to bash through his ribcage in a vain attempt to escape its confines and to distract himself from that, he peered over at Solomon.

 

"You ok?" After asking this, he uncorked a bottle of blood replenishing potion, secretly glad Alistair was behind him as right now he wasn't entirely sure he could support his own body, though he would be fine once the potion took effect. It was one of Professor Snape's, after all, and considering their newfound relationship and how much the elder man knew of him and the trouble he attracted, it would do more harm than good if he had mediocre potions to rely on in his time of need, though he could make an acceptable batch if asked.

 

Solomon nodded once, apparently, his first choice for assent but a little upturn of his lip accompanied it. "There are changes occurring."

 

No sooner had he said this, that all emotion in his eyes was wiped clean, much like a duster to a filled blackboard.

 

Giving Alistair an encouraging nudge, Harry was already starting to feel better. Thank fuck Snape was on his side, even when they were at odds with each other. If he could make something so effective when it came to recovery and healing, he wasn't sure he wanted to know just how effective Poisons could be.

 

He watched as Alistair stayed by his brother's side, gripping a shoulder in support, which Solomon placed his own hand over in reassurance.

 

Whatever his blood was doing, he had no idea if it was a good or bad thing. At a guess though, Solomon was using a mindscape, somewhere more familiar than reality with the amount of time he'd spent there to escape the pain. It would be difficult for him to adjust at first, once they got out of the literal shit hole Dumbledore had created down here.

 

While the room's temperature had returned to normal, something else arrived in its place. Harry couldn't see it with his own eyes, but it was bubbling, trapped beneath the surface.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief at the fact that Alistair had placed magical precautions of his own in case of their own spells or magical backlash, he waited, filled with nerves and although it was inevitable, guilt for causing Solomon more pain.

 

_'I know what you are thinking Harry, please don't. While it's true that he is in pain, the corruption inside is leaving.'_

 

Alistair's tone was unusually firm and Harry couldn't help but silently nod in response, shaking his head free from that mentality. It was something he'd have to grow used to, often blamed for things he couldn't help in his past, it was a hard change to make. It was his idea, after all, suggested for the sole reason to help and not harm.

 

While Solomon remained simply still when Harry first saw him, he was now rigid and stiff, every part of him tense. Holding his breath, he waited for something, anything really, to happen. 

 

"Shit!"

 

The energy he could 'see' earlier, at least with his magical sense, released itself, causing a shockwave to pass over the area, the force throwing Harry off his feet entirely, the Vampires still in cells unaffected while Alistair and Solomon remained unmoving.

 

To stop himself from cracking his skull painfully on the wall, he furiously thought, _'Arresto Momentum!'_   It caught him off guard to the point where there was to time to say the incantation aloud or use his wand. While there was a chance a cushioning charm was included among Alistair's spells, if there's one thing he'd learned at a young age, it was never to rely solely on others.

 

The shockwave remained physical and magical, as he came to realize once safely slowing his impact, to the point where his back thumped lightly against the wall. As the wave washed over him, so did raw feelings, mad whispers seeming to come from every direction at once.

 

* * *

 

 **PAIN.** _A pearl, catching on cracks, tearing at tortured souls._ **FEAR,** _festering in the depths of despair **.**_ **SORROW,** _shining falsely among the jagged hooks of_    **HATRED.**

 

~~Help. Help me...~~

* * *

 

 

Though the physical force passed quickly, the remnants of corruption in Solomon's body lingered for longer than Harry was comfortable with, finding himself shaken at the familiarity. Those thoughts, he had shared once, all too relieved when they faded away.

 

"Are you alright?" No small amount of alarm tinged Alistair's voice, as he asked him this aloud. Harry moved closer, watching Solomon intently all the while. He couldn't detect anything else though, so deemed it safe to move closer.

 

"I'm fine, but you didn't move at all. Perk of being a Vampire?" He asked, giving a cheeky grin as he seated himself.

 

"Simply knowing magic and Solomon as well as I do. Though I will admit, it would take considerable force to upset my balance." He threw Harry a teasing smile. "Though you are more than welcome to try."

 

Declining as he knew a lost cause when he saw one, enough blood to make the wounds Dumbledore inflicted look like a paper cut left Solomon's body, but there were no marks, it simply leaked from the pores, pooling at his kneeled form, to the point where Alistair and Harry had to move away.

 

The blood sizzled upon contact with the stone, strangely not burning Solomon, but happy enough to lick away at the stone beneath it.

 

"Phoenix Blood." Harry murmured, almost to himself as he watched in a trance. That something from Fawkes when used with ill intent could cause this much damage and the quantity of it filled him with nausea. Dumbledore had the balls to mistreat Fawkes to this extent?

 

While the blood did singe the stones some, the pair came to the realization that it had gathered at a specific point on the floor, away from Solomon, shrinking and shifting in shape until a small metal disc, no bigger than a coin, remained on the floor.

 

Though Solomon looked exhausted, his eyes were no longer as sunken in or blood deprived, however, his hair remained white with the single strand of black.

 

As Alistair transfigured what remained of Solomon's clothing into something similar to his, he lowered him to the floor, as he was out for the count.

 

After a moment, Alistair turned to face Harry, a hard expression on his face. Eyebrows furrowing, he seemed to glare in the general direction of where Dumbledore was.

 

"Now the Phoenix Blood is out of his system, I have regained my connection with Solomon. He was able to show Dumbledore's memory, through his own mind search. That thing," Alistair's expression faintly twisted into disgust for a moment, "Also contains Phoenix Blood. On the night that Solomon was taken, Dumbledore was at Theatre Royal in the audience. His aim was to capture a Vampire for questioning and the device of his creation would seek Vampires out, absorb into their very being and induce a torpor effect. The plan being that only his own blood could remove it, but he did not take you into account, Harry."

 

Flashing him a grateful if a slightly pained smile, Alistair wordlessly pulled him into a fierce embrace, Harry too surprised to so much as squeak in response.

 

"From the bottom of my heart, still as it may be, I thank you. I will live eternally but during this time, I shall find a way to repay you."

 

The voice in his ear was filled with so much emotion that Harry swallowed some, returning the embrace and seriously worried he would pass out, his heart didn't look to be slowing down any.

 

He couldn't help but laugh at himself, seeing the humor in his situation as opposed to the depression before Summer. "You'd better hurry then. I've had more near-death experiences that I can count and from birth, according to the prophecy, I'm going to die or Mr. Tall, Pale and Noseless is. Not that I put much stock in the prophecy mind you, he, Dumbledore and Trelawney can go bugger themselves."

 

He gave Alistair a soft smile, looking up at him still within the circle of his arms, though not as crushing as previously. "My life has never gone to plan, I don't know how long I'll live or when I'll die. But that's just like everyone else. The only difference with me is my amazing ability to attract trouble."

 

"I have heard all about your escapades. From you, of course, but Minerva was very forthcoming about her favourite lion. She has competition, however, as naturally, you are also my favourite lion."

 

And there it was, that charming smile with the ability to knock Harry dead and have male and female students alike scourgifying their underwear.

 

There was a mixture of relief and disappointment when Alistair released him as finally, he could control his breathing, but it came at the cost of the loss of contact that he couldn't deny he liked.

 

"We will need the aid of a friend of mine to relocate the others and Solomon to Lothaire Castle. Though now, I have a reason to take defenses seriously. No one will harm them again." The conviction shined through in his voice.

 

And Harry didn't doubt him for a second. As much as he could come across as charming yet carefree at first, he was as passionate as the next man, perhaps more, especially when it came to friends and family and this was something he could relate to.

 

Just when he thought he couldn't be surprised by Alistair anymore, he was proven wrong.

 

He didn't use a wand to cast. Actually, he didn't know if Alistair had need of or owned any kind of focus but shockingly enough, he could conjure a Patronus.

 

Not that Harry had ever seen Alistair as a Dark creature. He was more of the opinion of both Vampires and Werewolves before he had the opportunity to meet them, to save his judgments until initial contact.

 

But just about every book he could think of or any person he'd asked, born dark creatures and wizards who used too much dark magic couldn't cast this spell. He knew not to believe everything he'd read though, that and he was feeling immensely satisfied that Dumbledore couldn't be more wrong about Vampires.

 

Alistair's Patronus, if not for the colour, could be mistaken for a real animal. Golden, it illuminated the entire room, enough for the vampires in their cells to regain some semblance of awareness.

 

"Rupert, I need your assistance, immediately. There are thirty of our kin in the lower grounds of Hogwarts, Solomon among them." he conveyed his message, the Patronus seeming to have more sentience than any Harry had seen.

 

"Go." He gave his Patronus a gentle nudge, realistic enough that the feathers on its glowing form swayed with his hand movements.

 

In all his life, Harry didn't think he'd ever see a Flamingo Patronus. Marvelling at the fact that his life remained exciting for better or worse, he couldn't help but think that healing Solomon was only a small bump in the road, compared to what else lay before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was battling the most wonderful ear infection along with a dodgy hinge on my Laptop writing this! Which is, of course, what every fic writer wants!


	75. The Lament of Fawkes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the arrival of Rupert, a plan of action to move the prisoners can be formed, until they hit somewhat of a brick wall. The sudden appearance of a feathered friend may be able to offer their assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: With the help of Harry Solomon is cured, at least physically and Alistair contacts Rupert, of which he knows will be of vital assistance.

They waited a few seconds at most until a response came, in the form of a Tiger, silver in colour and looking no less realistic than Alistair's Flamingo.

 

"Understood. Show me."

 

At Harry's questioning look, Alistair elaborated, while his eyes briefly glanced around the room, focusing on the spot he had appeared from.

 

"Temporary possession. While it is treated as dark magic within most human cultures, for us it is merely a mode of transport or as I have shared previously, a means of chasing away men and women alike."

 

Lips twitching with mirth at that particular memory, Harry nodded his assent. "How does that work though? Most people leave their bodies behind for a short amount of time while they're sharing another body with that mind still present aren't they?"

 

"It's a little different for us. Rather than our bodies remaining whole, we are able to deconstruct our forms into fine molecules, with the same faintness as mist. There is no problem with this, as we are technically classified as dead. We travel to the host, in this case, Rupert will travel to me. I will feel his presence within my mind and slowly, he will reconstruct himself, gradually fading from my physical body while doing so."

 

Harry blinked once, furrowing his brow in thought. "Sounds complicated as well as unpleasant, but nothing like when Voldemort possessed me, I thought he was going to rip my head in half."

 

Alistair shook his head, sighing softly. "The humans should leave this technique to us. It is Dracul who was first born with this ability, after all."

 

Harry barely had time to think about that as one minute it was just them in the room and next, the man who must be Rupert materialised. He could have blinked and missed it, it happened so fast. Not to mention Alistair showed no outward reaction. They were on a different level to all of them, clearly.

 

Rupert quickly assessed the situation. "Ah. Now, where is he? I have a sudden craving for old man steak, extra bloody."

 

His grin was akin to that of a shark, expression looking completely out of place on his otherwise angelic face, as Harry couldn't describe it any other way.

 

He looked his age, soft blond curls and bright blue eyes, not even that much taller than him, his appearance screaming innocence.

 

_'Don't let that fool you, Harry. The number of challengers which have provoked him, the halls of Hogwarts would run red with the blood of his victories.'_

 

_'I'll keep that in mind.'_

 

Oh, he would pay to see Dumbledore locked in a room with him, of that he was certain.

 

Rupert then turned to Harry, approaching him. "Mr Potter." as he held his hand out Harry shook it briefly, the grin widening on his face.

 

"Alistair has told me much about you." He nodded to himself. "And meeting you in person for the first time, I now have a keen understanding of why he finds you more desirable than the blood of the first."

 

"Now really, Rupert-"

 

"Flustered, are we? Now there is a rare sight."

 

And true to his word, Alistair did look a little discomposed but quickly recovered.

 

As quickly as the grin appeared it faded, once Rupert saw Solomon.

 

"Give me an overview." Harry found himself impressed how quickly he could switch from teasing and almost childish to professional.

 

Instead of a verbal report, he could only assume it was an exchange of imagery, as Rupert muttered to himself here and there and after a few minutes, spoke aloud, directing his words toward Alistair.

 

"I doubt that we will be able to move everyone without going completely undetected. By all rights, I should not have been able to enter this castle and neither should you, the 'Dark Creatures', he air quoted, "That we are. Aside from searching the fool's mind or Solomon's, which is inadvisable in his current state, there is no certain way of knowing just what protections are in place."

 

The three were at a loss. While Harry knew that there were people aside from Dumbledore, right now they were all inaccessible. And even if they searched his mind, there was a chance Dumbledore had thought ahead and placed his memories in a Pensieve, with occasional outside reminders that the memory exists, or safeguarded them in another way.

 

Out of nowhere, Harry experienced a surge of exhilaration. Happiness, even. Hang on a minute...

 

With a bright flash, Fawkes appeared before them. Just like last year in Dumbledore's office and forced to fight Aela, Fawkes had incredible timing. Looking closer, he had seen better days. At first, Harry thought that was due to his burning day being close by, but none of his feathers had fallen out or dulled in colour.

 

He couldn't pinpoint what was wrong at first until he looked again. It wasn't so much Fawkes' physical body, but his spirit, intelligent black eyes so often filled with enthusiasm and life turned sorrowful, something which shouldn't belong to a Phoenix. He lacked the usual proud mannerism, even in flight he looked a shade of his former self, almost smaller.

 

On his breast, there was a mark, faint enough that it could easily be passed over but large enough if someone stayed in that area long enough for it to be spotted. At a guess, that was where Dumbledore was getting his blood, as he could see no other marks.

 

Though Fawkes brought along the familiar and warm feeling, it seemed to not shine as bright.

 

After a moment Fawkes landed on his shoulder, almost nestling into him. Harry didn't hesitate to bring a hand up to scratch beneath his chin and for a moment, basked in the affection received.

 

Until, Harry sensed a presence in his mind, other than his own or occasionally Alistair's.

 

**: I can help :**

 

Harry stiffened, eyes widening in surprise.

 

_'Fawkes?'_

 

**: Yes. Connection is weak but there. You have my tears. Cannot speak for long. Painful if communicating with anyone but Albus :**

 

Pushing aside his surprise, Harry nodded in understanding. _'Understood, don't strain yourself.'_

 

**: Thank you. Hogwarts bans all perceivable threats. Albus assumes all Vampires are as such. Sun Vampire and friend are not. I can help move prisoners. My touch will not harm :**

 

Fawkes spoke no more but sent Harry a series of images, ones which related to the nature of his bond with Dumbledore. That was something he would happily look into once the current issue was solved, as there may be something there which would allow for Fawkes' release.

 

Then, in complete contrast to the burst of happiness experienced earlier, a wave of sorrow hit him, not his own, reminding him of when Dementors were nearby, only without the chill and the rush of his worst memories. Even Alistair and Rupert could sense at least the magic in the air.

 

Fawkes hovered in midair, only to land by the unconscious form of Solomon, Harry's heart gripped in a vice. He'd never seen Fawkes look this way.

 

His very form trembled as he hung his head low, drops of water splashing to the stone beneath them.

 

Fawkes was crying. But these were not tears to help heal another.

 

Just like Harry had shed tears over Sirius or over his miserable lot in life, so was Fawkes. These were tears of sorrow.

 

Then he looked straight at Alistair.

 

* * *

 

 

Truth be told, Alistair had grown rather fond of Fawkes, for the short time he had been here. He had never met a Phoenix, in truth wary of them since their nature remained opposite to his. Up until Fawkes, that is. His natural if feathery charm almost comparing to his, which was impressive in itself. He still found it surprising that Fawkes had seemed to take a liking to him, always perching on his shoulder and wanting a scratch here and there. Unfortunately for him, it was a requirement that he see The Headmaster every day for a few weeks, to inform him of his progress and life settling in though truly, it was just an excuse.

 

Each time he sat there, being offered Lemon drops, taking one and then placing it aside and pretending to drink the tea served with wandless and wordless vanishing. Laced or not, he had no desire to consume anything served by that wizened winkle of a man.

 

Seeing Fawkes in that present moment, direct a gaze filled with such sorrow to him, it was an impossibility that he could remain unaffected.

 

**: I am sorry :**

 

Fawkes hung his head lower, looking almost ashamed and Alistair couldn't bear such a normally proud creature reduced to this, through absolutely no fault of his own.

 

He didn't hesitate to approach Fawkes, crouching by his side and tentatively, wiping away a tear with a finger.

 

_'It is not your fault. The blame lies with that of your master. Thanks to the actions performed four years ago, you aided Harry, who has in turn aided Solomon. So please, there is no need to shed tears.'_

 

Fawkes didn't respond. However slowly but surely, he managed to regain control of himself, returning back to normal. Or at least as close to it as possible. Harry wasn't sure that had ever been the case, at least while Dumbledore was his master.

 

Crouching by Solomon's side, Rupert removed a lock of his hair. "It shall take a short while, however between us, we will create a wide scale deception, enough for the fool to not suspect a thing until we are long gone."

 

Alistair seemed to know Rupert's plan and though Harry hadn't verbalised his confusion, Alistair picked up on it.

 

_'Golems, Harry. Specifically of a magical and somewhat organic construct. Animated Golems are created from inanimate matter, such as clay. However, these Golems require a different substance, hair or fingernail clippings, for realistic purposes. Once created, they will assume the form of the object for a limited period of time. The stronger the will during creation, the longer that these Golems will last.'_

 

Harry understood. At least this way, none of them would be anywhere near the area when the prisoners 'disappear.'

 

_'Can I help at all?'_

 

Alistair smiled softly. _'I thank you for your offer Harry, however, it is simpler if Rupert and I do this. While no incantation is required a considerable amount of willpower depending on the object is and a slip of your focus may mean draining your magical core to near depletion. If you wish, outside of this room I would be more than happy to show you how.'_

 

Harry swallowed nervously, his sense of self-preservation kicking in. As much as he did want to help and the size of his magical core now, there were some things he was better off leaving alone. With that thought, he returned to the first room, removing each of the keys but labelling them, as the numbers were only carved into the stone, with the use of a sticking charm, bits of parchment and a self-inking quill.

 

Returning to the room and after nods of assent from both Alistair and Rupert as the three began to unlock the cell doors, Harry went to open number 15, hand stopping mid-motion.

 

He froze mind blank of anything and body stiffening. He knew to expect the worse when faced with something like this but he'd honestly hoped Solomon would be it. He couldn't have been more wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I dived straight into the feels.
> 
> ~If it's not the chapter title my brain goes 'meh!' over, it's the damn chapter summary.


	76. Man of No Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Harry should have known Solomon wouldn't be the worst thing he'd find in the lower bowels of Hogwarts, he didn't expect this. Also, further evidence that Dumbledore isn't the Light Lord which he claims to be.

***TRIGGER WARNING***

 

_In this chapter, there's mention of physical and sexual abuse/rape, and OC character deaths, including children. As always I don't want to plunge into something heavy without letting people know beforehand._

 

* * *

 

Harry swallowed several times, incapable of encouraging his voicebox to work and unable to gather the needed saliva for it. It was as if the room was dry with the heat of Alistair's rage once again, though that could easily happen twice.

 

Forcing his hand to cease its trembles, he unlocked the gate, the rusted squeak of hinges ringing throughout the room, letting the key drop to the ground with a dull clatter.

 

The first thing which became apparent was that each cell did have a variation of spells. This one, in particular, masked at least scent as with the unlocked cell door, an overpowering metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils, no doubt more keenly sensed by his Vampire companions.

 

There wasn't an inch of the cell not coated in it, or at least in the dim lighting, it seemed to be that way. The image burned itself into his retinas, in a sense more striking and painful than Aela's venom could ever have been.

 

A woman, certainly Vampire from her appearance, lay on the floor, in a way which suggested used and discarded. Nothing covered her frail form and it was obvious to Harry that she was dead.

 

Most of the blood had dried beneath and between her legs, arm bent at an unnatural angle. She looked no older than her early twenties, even with eyes shut her expression conveyed nothing but the forced pain in her final hours, matted and bloodstained hair missing a chunk, part of it pulled by the roots.

 

Most of the pale skin couldn't be seen, a mass of bruises masking skin tone, the largest gathering centred around the stomach. On top of everything, she was heavily pregnant. Why? Why would they do this? It was all he could think, but not verbalise.

 

"Alistair." Harry finally managed to speak, even just the one word sounding weak to his own ears, trembling easing some with the familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder, though with it brought a cool wave of anger, as chilling as the gaze of Thanatos.

 

Oddly enough, the feeling of Harry's anger helped Alistair to maintain his own control, though admittedly it couldn't be helped once he'd seen Solomon, however, this was a very near thing. He placed respect above most things and among that included the treatment of women, whether that went for their own kind or not.

 

Knowing Rupert would be able to tell all they needed to know he kept a hand on Harry's shoulder, knowing that while despite his young age he had seen many things he shouldn't have been exposed to, this time he would have someone to stand alongside him, rather than to deal with it alone.

 

Grim-faced, Rupert needed no more than a few seconds for the results to be known to them.

 

"Three bodies, all our kind. Two deceased, one near deceased. Her family name is Setsuna, age 25 in years and appearance. The child within died a few minutes after, though both were already weak from lack of blood consumption, her death and ultimately the end of her magical core left nothing for the child. Violated repeatedly, sexually and physically. Time of death, a fortnight ago."

 

Everything about the way he spoke to Harry suggested clinical, factual and every bit dispassionate, though he realised this was simply Rupert's way of maintaining control, as someone had to despite the situation they found themselves in.

 

Rupert stopped for a moment, to inspect something closely.

 

"Traces of seed remaining, belonging to a wizard named Jeremiah Buckle. Magical signature faint, but there."

 

Alistair's hand squeezed Harry's shoulder harder for a moment, eyes turning sharp as he confirmed it for himself.

 

"Rupert. He is one of those who assisted in the murder of the Morganti family, as part of The Guild of Light."

 

"Ah. And I thought we'd heard the last of that old name."

 

Though Harry had more than one question about that, he saved it for the more pressing concern. "You said three bodies? I could only see two."

 

Rupert gestured to the very back of the cell, of which there wasn't much room for one body, let alone two plus one. In the very corner of the cell, there was indeed another body, blending into the darkness and unmoving to the point where Harry had missed it, not magically scanning.

 

As Rupert lifted them into his arms, Harry could see it was a young boy, who looked no older than five but thankfully, despite the bruises on his form, his clothing remained intact if threadbare. As if Rupert read his thoughts he turned to Harry.

 

"Violated physically, but not sexually." He kept his voice hushed, the boy too weak to so much as protest, lying limp against his shoulder.

 

Elongating fangs and cutting his index finger, Rupert coaxed the boy to drink, a tiny amount only needed due to the potency of it. The older a Vampire, the more effective the blood would be in every aspect, including healing for their own kind.

 

It didn't take long for him to latch on, glazed and pain filled eyes taking in his surroundings, as he looked at Rupert, eyes reflecting relief until anxiety became prevalent as he looked around more frantically.

 

"Mommy?"

 

Rupert didn't answer his question, touching fingertips to the child's temple. It would be difficult enough to explain to an adult, let alone a small child.

 

"Sleep."

 

There was a chance that other family remained living, simply in another cell. They wouldn't know until everyone was released. Either way at the end of this, a lot of families outside of here would have to be informed, as well as additions to the base stone.

 

As with Solomon, though his Golem would be the last creation, Rupert removed a lock of hair from the boy. Harry watched silently as Rupert returned to where he'd found him, hand outstretched. It wasn't a case of the Golem emerging out of nothing like Rupert's arrival here, on the contrary.

 

To Harry, it was a slow distortion of air. He regretted looking at the progress through thermal vision, colours burning brightly enough to nearly blind him. However after a short while, an exact replica of the child lay there, no detail left out.

 

In response, Harry couldn't help but give a low whistle in appreciation, mindful of their current situation but found it difficult not to react at such an impressive display of magic, even if to Rupert it was probably like solving a basic sum.

 

"We will avenge you." Harry could hear Rupert whisper to the woman he carried in his arms, gently placing her on the floor and removing a fingernail clipping. A simple blanket was conjured next, to cover her body as Rupert repeated the process, ensuring the fake Setsuna remained in the same position.

 

Shaking his head slightly, Harry patted Alistair's hand once in reassurance.

 

_'I'm ok. I didn't expect something like that, though I should have really. We've got a lot to do.'_

 

Harry's voice shook a little, even internally but he knew how important this was and as he'd done so many times before, he locked away his worries, sealed until he could meditate later.

 

With that he helped to unlock each door, Alistair and Rupert sharing the responsibility of Golem creation and one by one, the physical bodies in the cell were replaced by convincing copies, most having to be assisted or carried, not one of the prisoners in a healthy state.

 

None of them attacked, not even before Alistair and Rupert used a small sample of their blood to help sustain each of them. Dumbledore wasn't picky about his prisoners, men women and children alike. Though the keys ranged from V1 to 30, some cases more than one body was in there and to their sorrow, ten of them, not including Setsuna and her unborn child, were dead. That required the Golems be tweaked a little, as they couldn't be sure if Dumbledore cared to check whether they were dead or alive. But due to the Golems being a magical construct, naturally, they emitted magic and to combat this, they dampened the power output in a similar manner to how Harry had masked his own power, to hide it from Dumbledore.

 

Harry then asked the other thing on his mind, finding that mind speak with Alistair was awfully convenient, especially in these moments.

 

_'Alistair, what's The Guild of Light?'_

 

A sad sounding laugh in response.

 

_'The original Order of The Phoenix, created by Dumbledore during his youth. The small group made it their mission to eradicate any and all Vampires, even those merely associated with them. They didn't keep their activities quiet but each member became elusive, only a little information known to us.'_

 

Harry thought back. The man who had walked by him had the mark of a Phoenix, scarily similar to Voldemort's, even if twisted to his own purpose. If Harry was correct, then it was Dumbledore who created the original, Voldemort found this out and fashioned one of his own choosing.

 

At this point, Harry couldn't decide who was the bigger threat. Voldemort actively trying to kill him, though he hadn't heard a peep since The Ministry or Dumbledore, trying to kill him through his own erratic need to keep things in control, such as the blocks on his magical core. While not actively getting his hands dirty Dumbledore was equally responsible. Harry would go as far to say that Dumbledore manipulated Tom similarly, only the outcome was different.

 

Leaving out his thoughts on Dumbledore's manipulations, he told Alistair of the rest, wondering if he had any input. He could practically see the finely oiled cogs turning.

 

Finishing with one of the last Golems, save for one more prisoner and Solomon, Alistair nodded once, tone thoughtful.

 

_'I believe you are correct, however, the thought that at least two murderers are freely entering and leaving Hogwarts, not including the murderer who runs this school is not a comforting one.'_

 

Not to mention that the mark of the Phoenix would explain the unusual readings which he couldn't quite comprehend, due to not encountering them before.

 

While magical signatures were unique, the cores indicated power levels and affinity, or that was the popular opinion.

 

While a larger core indeed gave the user the ability to use more magic at once, that meant nothing if the person didn't know how to utilise it best. Taken for granted with most if not all of their magic stripped away would leave that person vulnerable.

 

From the little that Alistair had seen into Dumbledore's mind, any longer may actually cause him to develop gag reflexes, he relied solely on his magic, with no training in physical defence, self-defence, martial arts or weapons training. All Vampires, at least in their circle, were required to undertake at least self-defence and one other means of fighting back, if ever they were in a situation where the use of magic was inadvisable.

 

Though very rarely caught off guard and even rarer without magic, Alistair still remained sharper than any needle, perhaps more so in the period of time his brother was lost to him. At first, he had need of an Anti-Magic chamber, an isolated room where magic would be unavailable but as the years went by, he had less of a need for it and varied his approach, sometimes limiting magic to only healing spells while his main mode of attack was weapons.

 

While he couldn't deny that Dumbledore was powerful, knowing nothing but and relying solely on magic, was an undeniable weak point, one which they could use to their advantage.

 

With that thought in mind, Alistair watched as Harry released the last prisoner, in better shape than the rest and able to walk unassisted.

 

Then their eyes found him, surprise reflected in them.

 

"Alistair?"

 

Being caught off guard was becoming a regular thing, as Alistair was faced with someone he knew, and who should certainly be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you thought it would be the Potters or Sirius, but Dumbledore only has Vampires here, that's why the keys (or the stonework where all the keys are) are marked Vampire(s) 1 to 30. I can see why that's a possibility though, wouldn't put it past him!


	77. Loss and Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should be dead but despite it all, he lives. Alistair has never been gladder of that fact and Harry, for being able to find him and the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: The three men begin to release those imprisoned, replacing them with Golems of themselves, until Alistair finds someone unexpected.

_Mentioned and implied torture of a minor in this chapter, nothing in great detail though._

 

* * *

 

Jacob Morganti. Alistair could barely recognize him, not the ten-year-old boy he knew. Not even the human, for that matter.

 

While there wasn't a body, deep down both Alistair and Solomon assumed that he was dead. But despite all that he stood before him, a man only slightly younger than how Alistair looked, with features more closely resembling Enoc and Ava than his own.

 

"It's been a long time. I didn't think I'd see you again." Jacob's voice wavered with restrained emotion, though his eyes didn't linger for long, looking around the room.

 

"Where are my son and wife? We were brought here several months ago, just after we found out she was pregnant."

 

A pain went through Alistair's heart, the idea of such he always found strange, as the organ itself remained still, ceasing to beat for more than 600 years.

 

Jacob had lost family as a mortal child and now, though he didn't know the full story, he had lost family as a Vampire.

 

Though he wasn't silent for long, Jacob seemed to understand. "How?" his voice devoid of emotion he walked over to one body, a noticeable bulge among the dead.

 

"We are unsure of the direct cause, whether it was her injuries or from lack of blood consumption," Rupert added gently and as Jacob noticed what they were doing, allowed him to remove a lock of hair, to replace where he'd once occupied.

 

"Akari..." He whispered, placing her lifeless hand on his cheek, eyes closing wearily.

 

"Your son is alive, however." Rupert gestured to the sleeping body next to Solomon, as Jacob sighed in relief.

 

"I didn't think I'd be so lucky. I've had everything taken from me once, I refuse to do so again. Are you returning everyone to their families?"

 

"Lothaire Castle. From there we will make contact. You are more than welcome to stay for as long as you wish."

 

Jacob gave a tired smile, as he placed his wife's hand back down, moving over to his son.

 

"Thank you. I shall take you up on that. I've told Eduard and Akari of you, Solomon and Lothaire Castle. I told the little one too."

 

He was barely keeping it together, Alistair could tell. The least he could do was offer his assistance.

 

"One more thing," Jacob said, softly stroking his son's head as he seated himself on the ground. "Awfully convenient that I can just show you memories rather than explain, as I'm sure you'll want to know what happened."

 

Though to Harry the exchange seemed to be over in a few seconds, Alistair saw years fly by, as Jacob relived the past he wished to forget.

 

* * *

 

 

October 1922, Morganti Manor

Though life in the Orphanage wasn't bad by any means, Jacob had always wanted something better for himself and eventually, that chance came along, even if he didn't picture himself living with Magic born Vampires. The idea took some getting used to, especially being human and without magic himself, but hate from other sources hadn't clouded judgment, so he remained open-minded.

 

Over time he adapted, to the point where he couldn't see his family in any other way. He truly saw Ava and Enoc as Mother and Father, their own closeness and love for each other adding to the family dynamic, more so when they brought Emily home.

 

They may not be related by blood, but blood ties could easily be abandoned. Blood meant biological, but not necessarily having the meaning of family or the feeling of home, Jacob didn't put much stock in those things.

 

The siblings always enjoyed when The Lothaire Brothers came to visit, coming to see them as doting uncles of sorts. Often the four of them would leave to travel for the day, seeing sights which no one would ever tire of, while Ava and Enoc had some well deserved alone time.

 

Sometimes the brothers would split up, Jacob going with Solomon and Emily going with Alistair, or vice versa. Jacob hadn't once felt left out though he knew the pair had a soft spot for Emily. He had the very same one. He had only known her a few months but it was as if he had his whole life. He loved her with all his heart and couldn't ask for a better little sister. Wise beyond her years, as his parents often said.

 

Today started out ordinary, at least by his standards. That is, until two strangers neither of the siblings had seen before entered the room, asking for them to follow. Not letting his worry show he walked close to Emily, in the case of something happening.

 

"Who do you think they are?" He asked Emily, whispering so they wouldn't be overheard.

 

"Bad people." She replied, eyes staring resolutely forward until they locked with his, the serious expression almost out of place for a child.

 

"Jacob. Whatever happens, don't let them win. I love you."

 

"I love you too. But what do you mean?" What she was saying made no sense.

 

But she didn't reply, reaching out to squeeze his hand once.

 

As he followed the strangers he came face to face with more of them, body tensing as the sight before him, he would never forget. He had the urge to scream and crumple into a ball but through sheer will he didn't, face remaining as level as it possibly could, though the tenseness in his frame remained.

 

He knew instinctively the bodies were mother and father, they could be no one else. Dried and burnt husks of their former selves, barely recognizable but their torturous and twisted expressions were as plain as day. With the wands similar to his parents in their grasps, Jacob could only blame magic for not being able to hear the screams.

 

He glanced over at Emily, startled to see a resigned expression on her face. Everything was a blur, words being spoken but none were penetrating the light buzz in his brain, thrown from peace to chaos in a matter of seconds. The only thing which did register were her words to him.

 

“Goodbye, Jacob. Don't let him get to you. Stay strong, for father and mother.” she squeezed his hand harder this time and unaware of what was happening, he found himself being dragged away by one of them, trying to resist but to no avail.

 

He drew a sharp intake of breath at the vicious twist of his arm, as the man opened the door to his parents' Potions Lab, throwing him inside and locking the door.

 

A vicious sneer twisted his face. "You can't escape now."

 

The pain in his head as it cracked against the wall and his knees as they scraped along the stone floor soon overpowered the pain in his arm, what was happening bringing him into the present.

 

From his pocket, the stranger brought out a small bag, placing it on the table as he cracked his knuckles in glee.

 

"I've always wanted to test these on a live specimen, the brat of Vampires only sweetens the deal. Smile, boy."

 

The words of his sister repeating like a mantra in his head, Jacob only hoped he could survive this.

 

* * *

 

 

Jacob wasn't sure he could speak, let alone move. Throat raw from screaming, no sound would escape his lips from fear, even if his vocal chords worked.

 

Cut, burned, prodded, poked, stabbed, branded and in tiny spouts here and there so he didn't die instantly, healing spells. He wasn't even allowed to lose consciousness, at one point a bone breaking curse shattering the arm he was grabbed by. He believed his legs remained functional if burned from the acidic substances applied in small doses to his skin. Floor slick with blood and in some places dry and stuck to him, his face was stiff from crying, unable to stop from doing so but not once did he beg for mercy, shout for him to stop. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

 

He was nothing but pain itself, to the point where he couldn't distinguish between different kinds, only knowing he wanted this to end.

 

It could have been minutes or hours, Jacob didn't know but at last, the man left him, a small smirk on his face.

 

"I would kill you now, but death is too good for the likes of you. Have fun."

 

He shut the door behind him but didn't lock it, so sure in the fact that he would die there.

 

Relieved at last to be left alone, Jacob succumbed to the unconsciousness that he'd wished to at the start.

 

* * *

 

 

Whether it was the cold or the pain that woke him up he was unsure, but what he knew was that despite it all, he lived. But that wouldn't be for long unless he could get himself out of there.

 

The uncomfortable sensation aside from the cold and his injuries alerted him to the fact he needed to pee, and now.

 

He tried struggling to his feet, whimpering when for a moment, he'd forgotten the state of his left arm and as he slumped back to the floor, his legs trembled beyond control.

 

He hated this. The thought of having to relieve his bladder right there on the floor when he could easily use a toilet filled him with disgust but he had no choice.

 

Just when he thought he couldn't physically cry still, more tears escaped from his eyes as it soaked through his trousers, the smell of his own blood and urine mixed with the chemicals tested on him almost overpowering.

 

"Be strong, be strong..." He whispered to himself, even that caused him to wince, throat still raw. His sister was right. He lived. He'd find her, they'd get out of there and together they would survive and once they were strong enough, find and punish the people who did this.

 

With that plan in mind, Jacob once more struggled to his feet, thankful he was able to walk, though his legs remained weak and shaky.

 

There was a chance that those people still remained in the house, but how was he to know otherwise if he didn't leave? He knew if he didn't and find help soon, his injuries would kill him down the line.

 

Taking a deep breath, Jacob carefully opened the door and listened for any sounds, though magic could easily be at play again. He hoped that wasn't the case.

 

The walk there seemed to take longer than it had any right to, as he returned to the living room, squinting slightly at the dim lighting, as the day had turned into late evening.

 

He almost wished the man had affected his eyesight if only to spare him from having to see.

 

"No..." he shook his head repeatedly, refusing to believe it. He could only stare.

 

His little sister, ghostly pale which even he could see from a distance, lay crumpled on the floor, a wooden stake piercing her frail form. Eyes usually so full of intelligence and life were replaced by something dull, unseeing.

 

The light carpet was stained with her blood, but what affected Jacob the most was the lack of fear in her final moments. She resembled a porcelain doll more than a human child.

 

In his head, Jacob knew he would never see his sister again but his heart refused to accept this, even as he felt it shatter beneath his ribs as if the man had cast a curse to break that too.

 

"EMILY!"

 

Dismissive of his vocal chords screaming in protest, uncaring that his legs were weak and choosing to ignore the pain which shot through his body as he ran and dropped to his knees, he used the one good arm he had to hold her close, crushing her to his chest. He wished he could remove that thing from her, but lacked the strength to do so.

 

"Please...Please don't leave me, I love you..." how he found the energy to so much as sob he didn't know. Rubbing his cheek against hers, he wished that the man had killed him, but that would have been kind.

 

He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want to leave his family, even if they would never respond to his words. But he had to. His plan wouldn't change. The only difference would be, he'd have to do it alone.

 

"I'll come back for you." He promised, looking at the corpse of his sister and the husks of his parents. He had to go. He suspected the ones who did this were long gone now. He dropped a kiss to his sister's temple, heart aching at the lack of warmth but confirming his goodbye.

 

Gritting his teeth through the pain, the will to see himself to safety and the drive to live if only to make sure they would pay kept him going.

 

Heart beating a steady rhythm, the chill of the evening hit him. He couldn't see anyone around, that is until someone across the street spotted him and came running.

 

"Hey, kid! Are you ok?"

 

Jacob shook his head multiple times, about to collapse again if not for the arms that held him up.

 

"Who did this to you? No, never mind. Let's get you patched up first."

 

Thankful he was able to find help so soon Jacob closed his eyes, dropping into a light sleep as they carried him into their arms.

 

* * *

 

 

All this Alistair saw and more. The man who'd helped him was Vilka Greyback, born with Lycanthropy and part of the Greyback pack. The one chosen to live outside, their communication with the outside world both magical and non-magical. Within the pack he learned healing, only developing his skills more once he adapted to living among regular people and had done so comfortably for years, though none knew of his affliction, traveling back to the pack for his monthly transformation.

 

It was lucky his healing was on par with those who worked in St Mungo's, as he put it to good use healing Jacob.

 

Later, Jacob returned for the bodies, only to find that they were gone. He could only hope fellow Vampires came to investigate and gave them the proper burial they deserved.

 

He spent his childhood and teenage years assisting Vilka and through him, grew friendly with pack Greyback, up until his dying days. He mourned the loss of the man who had looked after him for nearly half his life but never forgot the family that became his first home.

 

As an adult, he became the first human accepted among not just pack Greyback, but other packs as he proved his trustworthiness, offering his help with all the healing that Vilka taught him and knowledge in exchange for their assistance should he ever ask for it.

 

When he first ventured into the magical world and spoke with the Goblins, he was left with another surprise. Enoc and Ava had originally intended to blood adopt both Emily and him, though they ultimately would have the choice for immortality or not, their blood would not pass it on if he didn't wish for it to be so.

 

But in the end, he did. It wasn't the end for him, he had confidence that there was a way to see his family again, even if not in death. Gradually, over time, he began to see he could make a difference. He was the first he knew of as both human and now Vampire to make such progress with packs and hopefully, Jacob could improve overall relations between Vampires and Werewolves.

 

As with first learning about Enoc and Ava, he adapted to his changed body and while his contacts were wary, they came to realize he was the same person so treated him as they always had.

 

He gained the ability to use magic too, but in an unusual way. Born without a magical core he couldn't use it from within. But, he could draw it from sources, such as magical stones or if energy was present, the air from his surroundings.

 

Though he had tried whenever he had the time to, he asked discretely of Alistair and Solomon Lothaire, but no one could tell him of them, which was unusual in itself as they were one of the most if not the most influential ones of their kind.

 

With his newfound status of immortality, Akari popped into his life, a woman so selfless and beautiful he couldn't help his fondness for her the moment his eyes met hers. From there, the rest was history. Though Vampires married, there were no flashy ceremonies. A simple exchange of rings or as an optional extra, an intertwining of magic. It would allow the bonded couple to share in each other's magic and feel a deeper connection to their significant other in every sense, including sexually.

 

However, Akari and Jacob opted for an exchange of rings, choosing to keep her family name. Both wanted children. The firstborn would be Morganti, the second Setsuna. It was something they discussed before and Jacob was ready to be at least half the father Enoc and Vilka were to him.

 

Then, Eduard came along. At six years of age, he'd inherited Akari's deep red curls and his dark blue eyes, lightening a shade when in need of blood. Though his magic was wild, he had a magical core, from his mother's side no doubt. Jacob had no idea who his birth parents were and frankly, he didn't wish to know. That life to him was long gone now.

 

It was February 1996. 74 years since the day his family was attacked. Jacob could barely believe it had been so long but now, with his wife, six-year-old son and another child on the way, he couldn't be happier.

 

Then, why couldn't it stay that way?

 

* * *

 

 

"Dumbledore caught a lot of us off guard," Jacob spoke, once Alistair had seen all he had to. "I had no reason to suspect that he was involved in the murder of my family, I didn't see his face at the time. None of realized until it was too late."

 

Just one more thing the old man had to pay for. To treat his brothers and sisters as if they were less than nothing? Alistair's fingers itched to do something unforgivable. At least if it was to anyone but Dumbledore. It was supposed to be a gathering, a celebration of achievement where all kinds of people could meet up and make connections, compare their experiences. But everyone in the room knew or actually were vampires, except for Dumbledore himself, who swiftly left the room, the area containing a potion when once tipped from its confines, would evaporate into mist and knock just about anything unconscious, whether the particular thing in mind needed to breathe or not.

 

"I apologize that you were unable to find me, I would have offered my assistance within a heartbeat, so to speak." he gave a half smile at his own joke. During that time, Solomon was missing and up until Harry, he had no wish to speak with anyone and mostly didn't, the only other Vampire Rupert. The meetings were only yearly but in light of recent situations such as Lilah's treatment by his kind and their current situation, it would need to be at least monthly. He was glad he and his brother were able to give The Morganti family a proper sending, as he briefly sent his memory of that to Jacob's mind.

 

Jacob gave a small smile in response, tinged with relief at the images. "No need to apologize. What matters is that you're here now. I believe I have you to thank for our rescue?" He asked Harry from his seated position on the floor.

 

Harry had been watching the proceedings intently. Though he didn't know the details, it was one more thing to condemn Dumbledore for. "Yeah. Something drew me here. I'm starting to think it's because Solomon had Fawkes' blood and I have Fawkes' tears."

 

"No matter the reason, you found us. I will not forget your act." Jacob's face remained expressionless, but his eyes shone with gratitude.

 

A sudden sound of disgust caused the three to look over to Rupert, who levitated the coin-like thing of Dumbledore's creation into a box similar to the curse breaking ones Harry had seen.

 

"Though I'm not able to, this walking bag of blood is the only creature that makes me want to vomit."

 

Alistair nodded in agreement. "His mind is positively horrendous, I am unable to stay there for more than a few seconds, I always have the urge to scrub myself clean."

 

Rupert shrank the box, placing it within the inner lining of his cloak. He would thoroughly analyze it later, once he saw his kin to safety.

 

At last, the final Golem of Solomon was created. The three once more locked the cells, Harry replacing the keys and removing the bits of parchment with the numbers stuck to them.

 

With the help of Fawkes, Alistair, Rupert and once they checked him over Jacob, relocated everyone to Lothaire Castle, while Harry ensured everything was in place, removing traces that they'd ever been there. One such way was a NEWT level spell which allowed for traces of a magical signature to remain undetectable unless actively searching for one. Once Alistair returned, he removed Solomon's blood from both their shirts.

 

As he nodded farewell to Rupert who disappeared with Jacob for the last time, Alistair approached Harry. "Thank you. None of us will forget your actions today, down to good fortune or not. It means the world to us, to me."

 

He placed an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Rest, if possible, you've earned it. Though just in case the dear old fool is looking for you, I shall walk with you back to your common room and if he should happen to ask, we were discussing the Defense Association."

 

"How-" Harry started to ask until he stopped. "Hermione."

 

"Yes. She has asked several students and some staff, including myself. I do wonder how she effectively manages her time. What is it that humans say, busy as a bee?"

 

"That's Hermione alright. In my third year, her time was managed questionably. You'll have to ask her for the details and entertain yourself as she tries to explain in a flustered state."

 

"I shall do that." Alistair chuckled softly, removing his hand as they ascended the staircase where some students remained.

 

Though his conversation with Alistair was helping to distract from his thoughts, he needed to sort them and fast. If his friends were there he'd check in and after, it was a time for another visit to the chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me, this was a monster chapter :O slightly earlier chapter this week, not sure I'll have the opportunity to post tomorrow you see :)


	78. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry needed to meditate, after what he'd seen. That was his intention, but it didn't quite go to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: How Jacob survived and at last, the prisoners freed.

_Child abuse in this chapter._

 

* * *

 

The walk back to the common room felt more like a run, the speed at which they arrived outside.

 

"Ah Harry, this is where I'll have to love you and leave you." Alistair didn't try to mask his disappointment and though the expression was familiar to him, the blush which was slowly becoming a part of his usual skin tone resurfaced once more.

 

Giving a fond smile Alistair waved farewell, as Harry approached the Fat Lady.

 

"Viribus."

 

At his voice she swung open, giving him a cheerful greeting as he passed through, looking for one of his friends.

 

"Harry, over here."

 

He turned his head at the sound of Ginny's voice, playing a game of Exploding Snap with Neville. Hermione sat a short distance away reading, but not in her usual 'dead to the world' state, aware of his presence.

 

His feelings over the previous few hours must have shown on his face, as concerned frowns crossed theirs.

 

It was too tiring to hide his real feelings, at least in front of the few people he could trust. When younger he did this with everyone and constantly having his guard up really took its toll. While he wouldn't call it quick progress, little by little he was learning how to relax his guard when needed.

 

"I just came to check in. I need to go and clear my head, I'll tell you what happened later. It's another, 'Shit that can only happen around Harry Fucking Potter' moment."

 

"I thought your middle name was James?" Ginny asked, unable to help teasing him despite her concern.

 

"You were gravely misinformed." Harry's tone turned low and serious, belying his next words. "The Marauder that he is, my dad decided to forge a fake birth certificate, with my middle name listed as James. But the day I got access to my vaults properly, which was over the summer, the real birth certificate was there for me to see, in all its glory. Harry. Fucking. Potter."

 

He placed his hands on the table, leaning in close to the three.

 

"My life was a lie."

 

Harry's face split into a grin as Ginny and Neville descended into laughter. Hermione gave him an affectionate eye roll, addressing him with her eyes peeking over the top of her book.

 

"Go on then. When you do tell us what happened, you'd better not spare any details."

 

"By details, do you mean like that essay in first-year Potions on the effectiveness of ingredients where Snape asked for a few inches and got several feet?"

 

Snickering, he left the room, hearing Hermione's flustered shout of "Harry!" at his back. It was something which caused her endless amounts of embarrassment as not only did Snape make her rewrite it, but labelled it as 'pointless fluff, lacking anything of real substance' or something along those lines, as the tearful girl shared with them at the time.

 

What kind of friend would he be if he didn't remind her of the one and only time she'd had to redo an essay?

 

Still chuckling he walked at a decent pace, laugh dying in his throat as the one person he could do without seeing ever, but right now especially, appeared before him, false twinkling eyes and garish robes only Lockhart could appreciate.

 

"Ah Harry my boy, how are we today?"

 

His guard went back up faster than he'd let it go with friends, almost instinctual at this point. He allowed his mind to fill with nothing but respect and adoration for the man in front of him, the only sign of his irritation being a clenched fist out of view.

 

"Very well Sir. How are you?" He returned politely, smile just as fake as the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes.

 

"Enjoying the little free time I have as Headmaster. Alas, Harry, this is the price to pay when one decides to run a school." He kept his tone carefree and Harry had to bite his tongue, in case something snarky and Snape-like slipped out.

 

Grumblelore, another alternate name of The Headmaster Harry mentally added to his list, reached into his robes.

 

"Lemon Drop?" He offered, holding out the sweet to Harry who politely declined.

 

In truth, he liked Lemon Drops, but he wasn't about to take something from the man who had single-handedly ruined not only his life but many others.

 

Dumbledore instead popped it into his own mouth, mumbling around it that he "Must be on his way."

 

Harry continued to his destination and once his back was turned, Dumbledore attempted to place a tracking charm which didn't fail, but instead rebounded back to the caster, due to the protection of the bracelet Harry wore.

 

Trying to follow Harry would leave Dumbledore very confused for a short while, unable to detect that it was tracking his own movements instead, beard twitching with confusion.

 

Harry could sense the magic just before it hit him, the subtle shifting of the air an indication. That and he suspected Dumbledore would try something along the lines of this. It was the very least of the lows the man would descend to.

 

While he appreciated the bracelet, not only for its protections but communication with Alistair as well, he'd lived his entire life without back up of any kind. While it was nice to receive it if a bit strange, he would never be solely dependant on it, more than aware that not every spell would work in the same way, the killing curse for one.

 

He could use the room of requirement to return to the chamber, however, the childish side of him enjoyed the ride down, at least now that it was clean, not littered with animal bones and not worrying about Ginny's safety at the back of his mind during the descent.

 

He was eager to see Aela again, the emotions of Lume not affecting him this time as the soul had left his body. Only instincts remained. He would visit them too as he wanted to know how they were, missing their company since they'd been with him for a long period of time, especially in the requirement closet back at Evergreen Manor.

 

He only let his guard lower again once he was in the safety of the chamber, the short ride down lightening his mood. Almost immediately as he set his feet back on the ground, he heard the happy hissing of Aela.

 

_**"Harry!"** _

 

A happy smile on his face he quickened his pace, entering the main chamber so Aela didn't have to squeeze through the pipes. At her age she was still managing to grow, not able to navigate the pipes quite so easily as she had before her rebirth, so to speak.

 

He wondered if the pipes couldn't be magically expanded, but then again he doubted he could alter anything about Hogwarts herself without Dumbledore knowing so for now, it was better not to risk it.

 

Entering the spacious chamber he was nearly knocked over by the speed which Aela moved towards him, the air from her movements ruffling his hair.

 

_**"I** **misssed** **you."** _

 

Aela was oddly adorable, despite being over 50 feet in length.

 

_**"I'd visit more often if I could. Even though it's only been the first week I've been busier than I ever have in my life."** _

 

Aela curled into a coil, bringing her head closer to his, nudging him to climb on. He did so and found himself being placed on her body, the sensation as he seated on her odd but not unwelcome. He indulged her, patting her on the head, though he couldn't cover much of a surface area.

 

He could feel his mind relaxing further, Alistair helping the process and now Aela. Though Lume and Thanatos' souls had left his body, the connection still remained. Through meditation, he can still speak with them, only outside of this their feelings and thoughts wouldn't bleed into his own.

 

They conversed for a short while and Harry thought, why not meditate where he was? He was at his calmest right now. He altered his position, Aela settling down to watch over him as he lay on his back.

 

He had every intention of meditating but instead, fell into a light sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_"No, no..." Harry whispered to himself, fearful of shouting in case of Aunt Petunia hearing._

 

_He kneeled in the bathroom, a bottle of bleach beside him and standing upright once more, as some had spilt on the mat, leaving a white stain. He was assigned a task by his aunt to bleach the toilet, but as the bottle was heavy, he only managed a tiny bit before he dropped it, some spilling on his hands, leaving his skin burning and itching._

 

_Aunt Petunia was going to kill him. And once she told Vernon, he would too. Dudley never passed up the opportunity to hurt him either._

 

_Eyes filling with unshed tears, he tried in vain to fix the stained mat, body still aching from Vernon teaching Dudley how to deal with freaks earlier._

 

_Harry had a past dream before, only this time he was there in the dream as himself, able to see the younger version of him instead of looking through his eyes. He didn't know what had changed but his dreams had taken a different depth entirely. He gritted his teeth, knowing what would happen._

 

_"Harry?"_

 

_Present Harry jumped, absorbed in watching the five-year-old, heart squeezing in such sorrow that he lost track of everything else._

 

_He looked to his side, eyes widening when he saw Alistair._

 

_"How did you get here?" He questioned, brow furrowing in confusion._

 

_"I believe that this has something to do with it." Alistair looked down at his adorned wrist, coming closer to Harry. "I'm not sure. One moment I am indulging in Ginger Newts which I have strangely taken a liking to and the next, I'm drawn into your mind."_

 

_Despite how hardened Harry believed himself to be, the one thing which hadn't changed was the sudden fleeting moments when at his most vulnerable or during a nightmare, he had the wish for someone to be there. Remus had begun to be that person, nightmares a frequent thing before Occlumency at least._

 

_His own desire for someone to be here must have drawn Alistair in. "Sorry. If you can, you'd better leave. I'm not sure I want to see this again, let alone someone else."_

 

_Alistair turned his attention from present Harry to past Harry, eyes narrowing slightly. "Was this brought on by the abuse you have seen today?"_

 

_Harry nodded once. "I think so. It's why I meant to meditate, as I knew a nightmare would be a possibility, but I didn't actually mean to fall asleep."_

 

_An intense look in his eyes, Alistair turned back to present Harry._

 

_"If you will allow me to, I should like to stay. Though I have many years of experience over you, in the short time you've lived there is an incredible inner strength, the likes of which I haven't seen in a long time and I know what you are capable of. However, even the strongest of us need a sturdy shoulder. My shoulder has been found, thanks to you," A soft smile lit his face. "I wish to offer the same in return."_

 

_This was big. That was all Harry could think. He certainly trusted Alistair but this was a window into his fucked up past. He appreciated his words, however, glad that Alistair was a fair balance. Not overprotective to the point of being slightly irritating like Mrs Weasley and not a puppet at the hands of Dumbledore but a capable being, with emotions, feelings, able to protect himself just fine but if needed, back up accepted._

 

_"It's not pretty, but you can stay." Harry could never reject Alistair, despite his discomfort over him seeing further evidence of his crappy childhood._

 

_Alistair said nothing, watching just as intently as Harry himself, though no words needed to be said, his presence alone making things just a little more bearable._

 

_"Potter!"_

 

_Present Harry flinched, in a similar manner to past Harry as the sounds of Aunt Petunia drew nearer._

 

_All young Harry could do was shake in response to his surname and the disdainful tone it was spoken with, bathroom door opening rapidly._

 

_"You'd better have finished, or else-"_

 

_No further words left her lips, eyes glinting and lips pursing in anger at the state of her bathroom mat._

 

_"You little freak. What have you done?!" She screeched, her pitch annoying enough to irritate eardrums._

 

_"'m sorry Aunt Petunia, it was an accident." Harry's voice was frail, as though he would fade away at any moment._

 

_"Don't lie to me! You did this out of spite, the ungrateful little freak who can't appreciate all that we've given him!"_

 

_Every movement animated with anger, Petunia opened the cabinet, removing a washcloth from the packet and using the still opened bleach bottle, poured some onto it._

 

_"Open your mouth."_

 

_He widened his eyes, looking from Aunt Petunia to the washcloth, mouth shut._

 

_"You'd better do as you're told, or I will tell Vernon."_

 

_A low hiss sounded from beside present Harry, Alistair with his fangs bared, looking ready to strike._

 

_Scared into submission Harry opened his mouth, present Harry swallowing reflexively, throat almost closing as he remembered the sensation, even if it had been over a decade ago._

 

_Petunia stuffed the washcloth in his mouth, uncaring that it wouldn't fit entirely or that he was gagging at the taste._

 

_"Don't you dare spit it out."_

 

_Shaking his head from side to side repeatedly, his screams of pain were muffled, but with no less clarity._

 

_It really was an accident! He didn't do it on purpose! Why did Aunt Petunia hate him? It hurt so much, the bleach burning and his heart aching._

 

_He sat on the ground, rocking back and forth, his cries not ceasing as she pinched his nose hard._

 

_"Keep it quiet!"_

 

_So that Harry could breathe through his nose he did, though each breath hurt him more, he had to._

 

_The inability to be able to do something, even for his past self, was eating away at Harry, limbs trembling with the need to do something, anything. But it wasn't real, just an incredibly vivid nightmare of his own past._

 

_He couldn't bring himself to look away, but his own heart trembled when a hand took his own, interlocking their fingers with it firmly._

 

_"It is just as well you have disposed of your relatives as rest assured at my age, you learn of many ways to make another scream."_

 

_"I almost wish I had kept them alive if only so I could see some of those methods in action." Harry smiled sadly, squeezing the hand that now held his, appreciative of the contact as aside from Remus, he found nothing else could calm him as much._

 

_Before long he was allowed to remove the washcloth, insides burning and itching as much as his hands. He was allowed a minute of using clear water to wash the bleach from his mouth and hands, but no more._

 

_In the end, Petunia still ended up informing Vernon, insisting that freaks always needed extra punishment, so that they would know their place. If not for Harry's magic and the ability it had gained to heal him due to necessity, he would have had permanent tissue damage from that day. As the scene ended, Harry sat down with Alistair following suit, hands remaining linked._

 

_"I haven't been dealing with my memories, just keeping them locked away so they didn't bleed into my sleep like they used to for years. I'll have to deal with each one at some point."_

 

_Alistair gently removed his hand from Harry's. using it to softly stroke his head. He couldn't help but lean into the touch._

 

_"If you have need of me, I will always be available to assist."_

 

_"Thanks," Harry spoke, his voice quiet and contemplative. Just having Alistair nearby in that moment had helped. Though he found asking for help difficult, in these moments he would try._

 

_The pair sat in one another's company for a while. The more Harry did so, the more reluctant he was to leave. He treasured any time spent with the man, by a little more each time._

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually, Harry awoke, reassuring Aela that he was ok. He wouldn't be as composed as he was now if not for Alistair.

 

Though he could meditate, he found himself curious about the room of souls Lume and Thanatos now spent their time in, not to mention that souls of other creatures resided there as well.

 

As Aela gave him a lift over to it he once more stood in the middle, gradually disappearing. He looked forward to seeing Lume and Thanatos again.

 


	79. Friendly Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's intention was to just visit Lume and Thanatos but surprises were a common occurrence in his life. Sometimes, he didn't know what kind until later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry has unwelcome surprises in store, both physically and mentally. But at least Alistair is there to lend a hand.

"Good Evening!" were the first words Harry was greeted with as he arrived by Lume, Thanatos following behind. Their colours were not as vibrant, muted the most appropriate description.

 

"Although we do miss conversing with you, it's splendid to see the variety of souls here."

 

Thanatos snorted lightly, saying nothing.

 

"Don't mind him. He's been in a more foul mood than usual due to your absence. He's missed you more than I have." a sharp-toothed grin, not filled with malice at all but to those who didn't know him, intimidating.

 

"...Don't put words in my mouth." In place of eyes narrowing, the flame in his eyes sparked.

 

"Even if they're true?"

 

"Shut up."

 

Thanatos moved closer to Harry, ignoring Lume entirely. "Has the old man tried anything?"

 

"Ignoring the fact I found out he's far worse than I thought, yeah. He tried something on my way down to the chamber, a tracking charm. Bastard can't track me, though he can try." Smirking at the thought of his recent failed attempt, Harry looked at his surroundings with interest. There were many other animal souls and among them possibly animagi souls.

 

At the moment it was nothing but empty space but as he grew closer to other animals, he began to see faint outlines of the place of their origins, including a Fennec Fox, bringing with it the faint sight of the Arabian desert, sand particles scattered at its feet for the brief moment it entered his vicinity.

 

He experienced similar things with the other animals, the ones he drew close enough to. Though there were thousands of souls, with the same structure type as his Patronus, unlike Lume and Thanatos who remained lifelike. It wasn't crowded or clustered in any sense, seeming to stretch for eternity.

 

"This world is solely dependent on the minds of those who have a deep connection with their animagus forms," Lume explained to Harry, after childishly sticking his tongue out at Thanatos.

 

"Do you mean because there's no limit to our minds, there's no limit to how big this place is?" He asked, watching the two out of the corner of his eye, lip twitching with mirth even as he watched animals he did and didn't know the names of pass by.

 

"Yes," Thanatos answered his question and Harry could feel Lume glare at him.

 

"He was talking to me, not you!"

 

"The question was answered anyway, you hot-headed Turkey."

 

"I'll have you know that I'm NOT a Turkey. I am, in fact, an Amphithere."

 

"You're definitely something."

 

Snorting at their bickering Harry left them to it, as they traded insults back and forth until something caught his eye.

 

While it was possible that it was just a simple lost animal soul and not an animagus soul, Harry could see this animal clearer than the rest. Even if two people had the same animal, something would make it distinguishable from the other, be it body or eye colour.

 

The thought that his dad could have established the same kind of animagus connection that Harry had never crossed his mind, but it made sense. The close bond they had with Remus, Sirius and his dad at least, and the amount of dedication it had taken to achieve their forms in secret just to help a friend in need, it was almost impossible for them not to connect on a deeper level, he believed they easily had the potential to do so, if Harry himself could.

 

The stag raised its head, as if it sensed his presence, drawing closer to him as the other animals seemed to fade away.

 

Unsure what to say Harry simply stared. It could be his imagination that he was seeing this form clearer than the rest but he hoped that wasn't the case.

 

"Are you..Prongs?" He asked, hesitant enough that his voice remained quiet, losing itself in the surrounding silence.

 

"Yes," The stag raised its head high, pride etched into every simple movement. "And you are Harry Potter."

 

"How do you know my name?" Unless Lume and Thanatos had spoken to this particular soul about him.

 

"Through my connection with James, until it snapped. Unless taken here physically the only other way is if the one with the connection is dead or trapped beyond normal means of reach. The latter, I'd still feel a faint connection but as I feel nothing, I assume that he's dead. Before I left, he spent several months around you and through this, I became aware of your existence. You share similar features with his life mate."

 

"My mother?"

 

Prongs inclined his head in acknowledgement, watching Harry intently. "You want to see through my eyes, but I don't have a mind for you to access in this form, as I'm not an animagi soul anymore, just an animal soul. If I join with an animal outside of here, that will change."

 

He'd never thought of that. Prongs being able to see years of James' memories from his own perspective, picking up on the things the boy and the man himself hadn't piqued Harry's interest. It more than piqued his interest actually, eager to see memories which didn't paint his dad in a bad light, such as Snape's Pensieve memory. He wanted to see all sides, not the side which uncomfortably reminded him of his time with Dudley. Though, he'd rather not have Prongs enter an animal body unwillingly, even though he wasn't sure how to communicate with other animals outside of his Parseltongue ability and even then, that was possibly because of the Horcrux. He was glad that anything useful had remained, but the rest had filtered out.

 

He spent a short amount of time speaking with Prongs and decided to return here later, Prongs telling him that Padfoot would be interested in speaking with him but as he'd taken to doing since his arrival here, he never remained in the one place and not even Prongs could keep track of where he went.

 

The thought of being able to see memories other than the one he'd seen and the few Remus had shown filled him with excitement. He would find a way for Prongs to have a physical body, even if the idea was too close to Voldemort's version of possession for his own liking, though the intention behind it was entirely different.

 

Over the past week, between how incredibly busy he'd found himself, he tried to sort through the images he received from the Thestral on the nights but in truth, he couldn't make much sense of them. The only thing he understood from the images and his own and Luna's understanding was they appeared different depending on how someone saw death. Students who hadn't witnessed a death before their very eyes saw nothing, while students that had and most likely with a negative opinion on it saw nothing but skeletal forms and now, due to Thanatos, he'd accepted the idea of death more and saw the Thestrals for how they truly were.

 

The only problem was, Harry had no idea how much time had actually passed. Though the time before all students had to be in their common rooms was extended to midnight, it was better for him to actually be there, his role as a Prefect and all. He enjoyed being able to use his role to help the students, that made it all worthwhile and his respect for most members of staff only grew when he thought arguments among and between students involving detentions and points loss was something they had to deal with daily, including him in the past. The mostly part only including those who actually did their jobs, not Quirrell, Lockhart or Umbridge. Regardless, he couldn't afford to not go on his nightly castle or out of the grounds exploration. If one thing hadn't changed, it was his sense of adventure, even if his attitude surrounding it had.

 

Nothing distinguished one area from another and if he didn't have connections with Lume and Thanatos guiding him, he could easily see himself becoming lost. He had to shake his head in some amusement and disbelief when Harry found the pair exactly where he left them, bickering and all.

 

"I hate to tell you, my doom bringing friend, but Harry likes me more."

 

Lume rested on the ground, coiling similarly to Aela.

 

Oh, that again. Harry had heard it on more than one occasion and while at one point he'd said he liked them both equally he usually chose to let them argue it out. There was only so many times he could say it. That and he had a suspicion that while neither would admit it, they enjoyed bickering.

 

"How did you come to that conclusion? You're a flame ball with eyes and stubby little legs, absolutely nothing likeable about a creature which totters about shakily like a newborn foal."

 

Harry decided to stay and watch for a short while, reminding him of a friendlier and less threatening version of his previous rivalry with Malfoy.

 

Lume's mercury eyes swam with sadness, even managing to make them look wet, though he didn't really have tear ducts. It was undoubtedly the saddest look Harry had ever seen and even the most hardened of Aurors would shed a sympathetic tear in response.

 

"Surely you don't mean that, my deathly compatriot?" Lume's head drew closer, until his nose touched with Thanatos, looking at him with pleading eyes.

 

He snorted in response. "Remain distant, or I will shout and knock you unconscious." He drew in a breath.

 

"Not until you say you love me." His eyes filled with stubbornness, something more than familiar to Harry at this point.

 

"No."

 

"Then I'm not moving."

 

Just as Thanatos was about to neigh for all his worth, Lume licked a wide stripe across his face, as he reared in irritation.

 

"Lume!"

 

Chuckling Lume flew circles around his head, both shouting distracted farewells as Harry called out to them. If only Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry, in general, could have more of a tone such as theirs.

 

Moving back to the platform he appeared on he soon arrived back in the chamber, Aela close by with her eyes shut.

 

"I'm going, for now, I'll visit you later. I'll bring one or two of my friends if they want to come." He patted her on the head, heart twinging at her sad look. If she could shrink to hide beneath his robes to the size of the tattoo on his arm he'd bring her everywhere but to his knowledge, there wasn't a way to do this.

 

Salazar may have an idea though as in one of the rooms were books, the chest they were stored in see-through, almost like glass. Certainly unbreakable but he wasn't about to try to brute force his way in, preferring to remove a few layers at a time, though for some he'd have to see Alistair about, unfamiliar to the point where he'd need the expertise of someone older than the founders themselves.

 

It was a shame he couldn't slide his way back up to the entrance but as he arrived back at the pipe, he placed sticking charms on his feet, using his strength to climb back up. Thankfully, it wasn't too steep and he couldn't sense anyone nearby. He scourgified his clothing, just in case, checking the time with a quick tempus afterwards.

 

8 pm, there was enough time to visit the Thestrals, not to mention he was curious to communicate with them further.

 

Not many students or staff were in the corridors at this time, most indoors which made it easier for him to navigate without having to be stopped. As he crossed the wooden bridge, he spotted Luna just ahead, who ran over to him.

 

"Hello, Harry." She tilted her head and he was more than sure she seemed happier than usual, blue eyes sparkling. "Have you come to see the Thestrals?"

 

"Yeah." He gave her a small smile as she walked alongside him, at this point he knew not to question how she seemed to know things before everyone else or things she had no way of knowing. He pinned it down to a Luna-like quirk, though if he was told her family line held seers he wouldn't find himself too surprised.

 

He was reminded of the butterbeer cork necklace given to him by her, in the shape of a key. He did ask why that shape in particular, however, she only smiled mysteriously and refocused her attention on smearing toast with a generous layer of strawberry jam. Luna wasn't saying they were charmed for the sake of it, he could sense her magic, calm and quiet. Basically, the opposite of his, though it wasn't as explosive as it used to be. Unconsciously he traced the outline of the key with his finger.

 

"I'm happy that you like it, Harry."

 

As his eyes looked into hers, filled with gentleness rather than the stress and grief of before, Luna knew that her necklace would offer him good protection. More, if he found the lock which it fits into. Though Professor Lothaire didn't need her protection as he was more than capable of protecting himself, Luna always helped her friends, no matter who or what they were, which was why she'd given him her gift this Monday.

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of her first DADA lesson, Luna skipped over to Professor Lothaire's desk, unable to help herself. He greeted her with a soft smile.

 

"Miss Lovegood, how can I help?"

 

Picking the specially made necklace from her bag, she held it out to him, excitement causing her outstretched hand to tremble. Giving or receiving presents always filled her with joy. This cork was the only one she didn't know the origin of, as old as it was but she picked up her habit of cork collecting through her father and apparently, cork collecting ran in the family as several on his side had done so before. It was where this one came from, in fact.

 

"A present for you!"

 

Though she knew he was unsure of what it was, the way his eyes twinkled with gratitude as he carefully took it from her was unmistakable.

 

"It's a cork necklace, it will keep you safe."

 

"Thank you, I shall treasure it." Saying this he placed it around his neck. He was not one for necklaces but with the knowledge that she had most likely made this herself, there was a charm about it he couldn't ignore, the magic within the softest and most gentle he'd encountered.

 

"What is the occasion, if you don't mind my asking?" He kept his gaze on hers, fingers running curiously over the heart-shaped padlock design.

 

"We're friends, and friends do nice things for each other!" She gave him an honest smile, filled with genuine warmth and Alistair appreciated that for every Ronald Weasley and Albus Bloody Dumbledore there were at least half a dozen people far from them.

 

He hadn't encountered someone who established bonds of friendship quite so quickly, however, he couldn't deny having Miss Lovegood for a friend would make for an interesting experience.

 

"I'm glad you like it, Professor." She gave a small wave of farewell, turning her back and skipping to the exit.

 

"Have a lovely day, Miss Lovegood," he called after her as she returned the sentiment. He had a feeling his smile would remain for the rest of the day, in a more cheerful mood, the thought of one Hufflepuff holding their wand backwards, stunning themselves due to the overpowered Confundus they were hit with earlier. They were rather fortunate it wasn't something nastier, though he was thankful it wasn't the usual Gryffindor/Slytherin combination as aside from one or two classes, most chose to take the rivalry to the extreme though he hoped to change their opinions over time.

 

With those thoughts in mind, Alistair resumed the routine of marking, becoming more familiar with each day. The necklace almost seemed to have a calming effect on him, though that could easily be his imagination.

 

* * *

 

 

As Harry was about to pass by Hagrid's Hut, he stopped for a moment. Luna knew where the Thestrals were and he had a feeling as Thanatos, he could sense where they were too. He kept his distance. While Hagrid would find the idea of his animagus forms fascinating, he was far too honest and would tell Dumbledore in a heartbeat and he doubted Hagrid knew much Occlumency and even if he did, it wouldn't hold up to Dumbledore. One day, he would show Hagrid both Lume and Thanatos. He moved to a more shaded area, checking to make sure it was just the two of them.

 

"Luna. Over the Summer I connected with my animagus forms and I'm about to turn into Thanatos now. Aside from Remus, you'll be one of the first to see him."

 

"Ooh!" She clapped her hands in delight, looking up at him with anticipation in her eyes. "Show me, please?"

 

Harry chuckled, distancing himself a little to do just that. "Of course."

 

Unlike at the start, the change from human to horse became as natural to Harry as anything else, noticing with interest that the bracelet he wore resembled a silver tattoo painted just above his hoof, something he'd never noticed until now.

 

A soft gasp caught his attention, the novelty of how different everything seemed in this form not having worn off just yet.

 

"You're wonderful." She didn't hesitate, running a hand through his mane which unlike its threatening and crackling appearance, didn't harm Luna, just cast a green glow upon her skin. At her words he'd blush if he could, none of the pride bordering on arrogance of Thanatos when his appearance was complimented, it was all Harry.

 

He lowered himself in her direction, as an invitation for her to climb on. He tried to as much as possible, as he stood just as tall as the Thestrals at 22 hands high.

 

He needn't have worried as with a little help from magic Luna seated herself on his back, the feeling of spells cast by her, most likely to hide her and his presence, at least until they entered the forest. In this form, he was confident he could locate them, though he had Luna to rely on as well.

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, softly calling out in delight as he reared on his hind legs and sprinted, joyful and feeling so free.

 

The memories from the Thestral which eluded him made far more sense as Thanatos, fitting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and the finished result left him breathless.

 

There was more to Thanatos than Harry knew. If what he thought was correct, the problem of Avada Kedavra may finally have a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my average chapter length has increased recently, though that could be just me thinking that :P either way I have absolutely no writer's block on the single one I regularly update so yay xD


	80. Marked by Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While he knew Thanatos was a unique animagi to have, Harry didn't realise just how unique and so much more than that he actually is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Harry visits the world of souls and watches Lume and Thanatos have their usual banter and with some time still left in the day, decides to go and see the Thestrals. The memories he received suddenly clicked once he became Thanatos.

This changed everything. Only a fraction of his mind was devoted to avoiding the dense trees, the sound of his gallops shattering the otherwise silent night, most of his mind on this new revelation.

 

The day that he picked up Thanatos' tail hair, it altered his body chemistry gradually. Not enough to notice, but enough for change to occur. Finding Thanatos was simply the beginning. He's death itself and along with Harry's own brushes with death, he'd begun to build a resistance to the killing curse and touching the hair granted immunity.

 

According to the Thestral he gained the memories from, Thanatos was the first of their kind and rivalled Fawkes in age. He shared similar height and structure with the current Thestrals but other than that, time and breeding had altered them.

 

* * *

 

 

_Thanatos' Memory_

 

Born to a Unicorn who'd lost her horn when young and a Friesian horse marred by trauma, he discovered his connection with death from a young age. While he had magic capabilities thanks to his mother, his father's influence wasn't to be forgotten, even if he held no magic of his own.

 

His mother died shortly after giving birth, his father trying the best he could to raise him, even if the idea of affection and love was beyond him, receiving none of it during his youth.

 

He had no name at that point, only just able to gallop about without falling over his own hooves when wolves attacked as the father stepped in to protect his son, though suffered a bite to the neck as a result.

 

The young horse, filled with fear, saw the wolves collapse to the ground, dead. One of them tried to attack, only for their fur to brush his mane, alight with a mysterious green glow.

 

His magic had manifested, in a more destructive way than the healing properties of a unicorn. The very hairs from his mane and tail became composed of death itself, instant upon when someone or something touched them.

 

Realising what had happened, he looked at himself. There was no reason he couldn't use this for good, however. He slowly moved to his collapsed father, blood staining the grass below him. Looking into his eyes for the final time, he let his mane brush across and with it, made it so his father would feel pain no longer.

 

Neighing in sorrow he stayed with him for a while, reluctant to move until he came to understand that he could use this to both attack and defend as without, he would be helpless.

 

And so he did, tail and mane hairs alike dropping out from natural causes, coming to mingle and create magically charged air, after the surface which it landed upon was robbed of any organic life.

 

He continued to grow both in magical power and strength, most fearful of the strange creature with control over death, some seeking aid when a life needed to end.

 

That is until he came to understand he couldn't truly die himself. An attack which should have killed him didn't, instead causing eyes to glow with the same fire which sparked through his hairs, the glossy black sheen of his coat ruined by chunks of flesh torn away which revealed bones the colour of ash peeking through.

 

Those close named him Thanatos, while outsiders spat a curse, Avada Kedavra and unforgivable, as they shared the legend of the creature to those back home. Though he didn't have a name before, he wouldn't shun this, for that was what he was, death. He wouldn't even shun their curse, becoming a part of him.

 

For all that most were afraid, one unicorn remained fascinated and her fascination helped with the creation of their species, Thestrals.

 

Their connection with death allowed for travel to the world of souls, discovered when the first of their kind passed on, a portal appearing upon their death.

 

Thanatos felt as if it was his duty to better things for his kind, confident in leaving them to travel the world of souls. While he couldn't die himself, he could remain as a soul and travel that way.

 

The world of souls was filled with other creatures, those of regular animals or animagi souls. Those not animagi souls could be picked to establish a connection with humanoid magic users, as he came to understand.

 

Over time, it seemed as if every soul travelled elsewhere, except for him. None of the magic users was closely connected with death like him and he couldn't help but feel that he needed to form a connection with another.

 

He had no way of knowing about Harry, or that the outsiders' view of death became so negative that while his kind hadn't changed, to most eyes they were twisted, ugly creatures or not visible at all.

 

Every time someone uttered the unforgivable Avada Kedavra, a tiny portion of the magically charged air is used, a part of Thanatos twisted to a particular purpose, be it to painlessly end someone's life who wishes for it or cut another life short which didn't deserve such a fate.

 

The day Voldemort spoke those words and tried to kill a small child, Thanatos had found his purpose, soul drawn to this place as the other part of himself in the form of the killing curse absorbed into the tiny body.

 

Now, all he needed to do was wait until Harry found him.

 

* * *

 

 

As Harry's mind processed the memories, more of it returned to his current surroundings, relieved that in this form it seemed as if he could close his eyes and still find the destination, the forest not as intimidating or confusing to him as it would be if he were in his human form.

 

"Thanatos, can you go faster?" Though her voice was always quiet and she never raised it, Luna's words remained easily heard.

 

Challenge accepted. In truth he was only going half the speed he was capable of, mindful of just who was on his back. Remus couldn't handle him going too fast, but somehow he knew that Luna would be able to.

 

It could have been seconds or minutes that passed by as Thanatos increased his speed, the trees looking as though they physically moved away, rather than skilfully manoeuvring around them. He gave a cheerful neigh in response to Luna's cry of delight, not scared in the slightest though she did continue to keep her gentle hold around his neck.

 

The further they travelled, the harder it was to keep his current speed due to the density of the trees but before long, he sensed that they were close by and gradually stopped. He once more lowered himself to the ground, Luna lightly landing on her feet, skipping ahead as he followed behind, knowing that she was confident of the destination.

 

As he entered a small clearing, small enough to the point where it could be easily missed, he watched as Luna happily made her way over to the foals, fitting in as part of the group as if she'd always been there, running her hand softly through the mane of the one closest to her.

 

While the younger of the Thestrals paid no attention to him, the elder did. Specifically, the one which gave him the memories. There was something about her which was different from the rest. More alive and aware.

 

_'Do you understand the nature of your form better?'_

 

He was becoming used to having animals and Vampires alike able to communicate with him mentally. He had a good ability to adapt, given all the situations he'd found himself in over the years.

 

_'Yes, on the ride over here. I tried to as a human but I'm guessing I had trouble with that because the memories aren't from a human's point of view.'_

 

 _'You are correct. Come.'_   She walked a distance away from the others and Harry followed her to a slightly more secluded area.

 

Though she had no pupils, simply the whites which stared into his own, he didn't feel disturbed or fearful, simply at peace. She came closer, nuzzling her nose against his as he watched her in curiosity.

 

She distanced herself a little, bowing her head slightly. _'I am Nāve and Thanatos is my direct descendant. I know his soul currently resides where it used to be, though he has no memory of this.'_

 

 _'He has no memory of what I've just seen, you mean?'_   Thanatos was in for a shock, there was no way to break it to him gently either.

 

_'Yes. Before he left, he shared his memories with his mate and so that he wouldn't be forgotten. A select few were trusted with the information, the same way it has been for centuries and what I am entrusted with until the day he returned and to keep the history of how we came to be alive.'_

 

Suddenly, Harry felt as though he needed to sit down but in this form, that wouldn't be the most comfortable thing to do. Out of everyone in the world it could have been, Thanatos was drawn to him of all people. Not that he hated the idea, he was fond of Thanatos even before finding this out and whatever purpose he felt needed to be fulfilled, Harry would do his best to help.

 

Though he had an understanding of what he'd seen, talking it through with Nāve helped as well. To a certain extent, he had control over death, at least if it was Avada Kedavra. While Thanatos couldn't heal as healing wasn't part of his nature, there were other ways he could help. Since the hairs belonged to him and magic was about intent, that was why they didn't hurt Luna or Harry himself when picking one up. In the case of self defence or to attack if that was his will, they would affect whatever they touched.

 

The biggest thing for Harry was if someone was hit with Avada Kedavra. According to Nāve, though her knowledge of the subject was limited, a brief period of time would be available for the effects of the spell to be reversed, as long as traces of the raw spell remained which after a few seconds, wouldn't remain in solid form and disappear.

 

Meaning that in theory, if an ally was hit nearby with the spell, as Thanatos, he could reverse the effects by calling that part of him back. Though he wasn't willing to try that out on a live subject, the irony that the one spell which tore his family apart could be used for good wasn't lost on him.

 

 _'Thank you for telling me this, I'll help Thanatos to find his purpose.'_   Though a human would find it hard to search for sincerity when there were no eyes to speak of, simply green flame, Nāve had no problems reading him and nodded her assent.

 

 _'Though I am glad Thanatos is back, I am also glad to have met the one that finally allowed for his return.'_   Saying this she returned to the others, Harry following behind and had to smile at the endearing sight of Luna surrounded by Thestral foals.

 

As he approached, one of the smaller foals turned their head, cocking it in curiosity. On wobbly legs they circled him and he stood still to let them get a feel for him. It wasn't long before they butted their head against his side.

 

_'Friend.'_

 

One word and along with it, a raw piece of meat dropped before him. While he didn't want to offend the foal, he also didn't want to contract food poisoning due to him not actually being an undead horse and while he hadn't tried it, hoped that he could still silently cast a vanishing charm.

 

Leaning over the meat in a way where his long mane hid it from view he tried that, huffing a sigh of relief when it worked. The foal seemed satisfied, adamant about sticking close to him.

 

The elders who didn't know of Thanatos were suspicious at first but soon warmed up and even if he tried, he couldn't lie his way into their hearts. They could spot insincerity a mile off and as he'd arrived with Luna who they had known for a while now, he was welcome to stay.

 

And stay he did, he got to see a side of Luna she didn't show others, more open and carefree than she'd ever been before, except for the short amount of time she'd spent with Brio. He also came to learn that hide and seek was a popular game across more than one species, though he found himself at a disadvantage. There weren't many places someone as large as he was could hide effectively, not like Luna who was small in height or the foals, some of them even smaller than she was. But nevertheless, he had fun, coming to understand more about the Thestrals who if given the chance, would show the outside world that they're not the cursed creatures that their ancestor was first named.

 

Before long they had to leave, the further darkening of the sky evident even through the pinpricks available to their gaze. Harry would certainly return and if Luna was amenable, he would join her for her visits and she seemed to do so fairly frequently. As much as he enjoyed spending time with his friends, it was nice to spend one on one time with them. He wanted to know more about everyone, even Hermione. He spent more time with Ron than anything and beyond what she'd shared, he didn't know as much about her as he thought.

 

This was a way of getting to know Luna better. Quidditch with Ginny appealed to Harry as that was something which the pair had a mutual love for. That and he was honestly curious if Lume had affected his flying ability in any way.

 

Though Harry knew of plants thanks to the gardening Petunia forced him to do no matter the weather, the idea of Herbology in general brought about unpleasant memories. Though duelling probably wasn't at the top of Neville's list, he'd come back a changed man just as Harry had and he'd trust Neville at his back any day of the week and knew he could help Neville bolster his confidence further, along with having the green-fingered guy of their group have a few more spells up his sleeve.

 

Hermione didn't need much thought. Though his love for books would never surpass hers, hopefully within the chest in the chamber, there were a few books which Hermione could read and concerning the subject matter, he'd be more than happy to discuss it. The more he truly came to know his friends better, the more ways for them to connect he'd find. He didn't treasure the friendships he'd made before despite having none throughout his childhood but that was going to change.

 

"I'm glad I got to spend time with you Harry," Luna spoke, eyes lit with joy as she walked with him back into Hogwarts after Harry had turned back to his normal self.

 

"Me too. Let me know when you're seeing the Thestrals again, I'll tag along. I had a good time tonight." Compared to this morning and during his earlier memory, no tenseness remained in his frame, completely relaxed if physically and mentally exhausted.

 

Luna happily agreed and despite his tiredness walked her back to her common room. He knew what her fellow Ravenclaws and some other members of the house treated her like and the idea that she could be targeted while in the corridors late at night didn't sit well with him.

 

After saying his goodbyes he returned to Gryffindor tower, worried at first that all the happenings of the day would keep him awake but he had no such problem, the last thought on his mind wondering what tomorrow's defence lesson would have in store and if Ron would actively stop being a dick for more than five seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is chapter 80, it's been a chapter a week since about 5 or 6 chapters in, that's so many weeks and months but it's flown over in no time at all :O I love this so much and I'm glad so many of you do too.
> 
> Thanks to answrs for the Thestral idea which they suggested way back, though slightly different to what they said it still involved bonding and raw meat :P


End file.
